


Fire and Frostbite

by Grey_Water_Ghost



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cultural Differences, Excessive World Building, Found Family, M/M, Secret Identity, Slow Burn, Tags to be added, The Gaang Learns How Zuko Got The Scar (Avatar), Watertribe culture, Zuko Joins The Gaang Early (Avatar), Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck, kind of, zuko finds inner peace
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:02:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27820438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grey_Water_Ghost/pseuds/Grey_Water_Ghost
Summary: One moment he was holding on for dear life, the next he was falling. It almost felt like slow motion, watching the ship shrink before him. He could hear warning bells faintly through the storm and a frantic scream of “Man overboard!” but it was gone in an instant, swallowed up by frozen water.It didn’t even feel like he was in the water. It felt like he had fallen into sheets of glass. Every crash of water against him felt like it cut through his skin. His entire body went stiff from the cold--it felt like his very lifeforce had been frozen to the core.AKA Zuko decides that he wants nothing to do with hunting the avatar or having any part in the war. Of course, fate doesn't listen.
Relationships: Aang & Zuko (Avatar), Katara & Zuko (Avatar), Sokka & Zuko (Avatar), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 136
Kudos: 860





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay! My first time in the ATLA fandom but this has been living rent-free in my head for about two months now. Characters are aged up a little for the sake of emotional maturity. Zuko is 18, Sokka is 17, Katara is 16, and Aang is 14. Mild warning for childhood abuse but I will write in the notes of what chapters it shows up in. Feedback is always appreciated!

“A man needs his rest, Prince Zuko.” 

Iroh’s voice, just shy of being infuriatingly kind, broke the silence on the deck of the ship. Though the deck was never truly silent. Even now, in the dead of night while almost all the crew slept below deck the ever-shifting ice groaned as the frozen waves kept a steady rhythm against the haul of the ship. Zuko didn’t turn when he spoke, his eyes still trained on the full moon. 

“Exactly, Uncle,” He spoke in a soft voice, a smile tugging at his lips despite his best efforts to hide it. “Why are you awake?” 

Iroh laughed and settled next to Zuko on the side of the ship. “I cannot argue with that, Nephew. When did you get so wise?” 

Normally Zuko would roll his eyes and tell Iroh to quit teasing him and then he would most certainly continue teasing him until he finally got Zuko to give in and have tea inside with him. But his golden eyes stayed focused on the midnight waves. His hint of a smile returned to his contemplative frown. When he didn’t respond Iroh sobered, his hand resting on his nephew’s shoulder. 

“It’s been three years, Uncle.” He spoke after a long pause. Iroh never pushed him to speak, that was something he loved about Uncle. At first he had hated it, of course. Zuko would yell and hurl insults and Iroh would just wait. He would wait for him to run out of things to say and then wait for Zuko to explain what he really wanted. It was infuriating to have someone care so much about what he had to say but no matter what horrible things he yelled Uncle never turned his back on him. Iroh said he was never mad at him for all that he did but Zuko wished he was. Hate he could understand. Unyielding love was much harder to wrap his head around.

“And it has been two years since you found yourself, Nephew.” Iroh’s voice was steady and calming. “And I am so proud of you, Prince Zuko. Every day I meet a kinder and more honorable man.” 

Zuko smiled, turning to look at him now. “And I don’t regret it, Uncle. But it’s been three years of training and studying with you under the guise of chasing a mythological creature. I’m happy but... “ He looked back up at the moon, that now familiar knot in his gut tightening. Dread. Like he was forgetting to do something. Like he was late. Like he was wasting time. “What am I training for, Uncle? I’ll never go home. I’ll never be able to get back to my people. So why am I training to lead and defend them? What is the point of all of this?” 

Iroh chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “You, my nephew, have stumbled upon the question that plagues each of us. The matter of destiny.”

“How unfortunate,” He sighed. “I sense a proverb coming.” 

Iroh continued as if he hadn’t heard him. “There is nowhere you can be that isn’t where you’re meant to be.” 

“That didn’t have the same gravitas as I expected.” 

“Sometimes it just has to be true.” Iroh shrugged. He then straightened up, his gaze moving to the ocean before them. They stood in companionable silence for a few moments. “There is a lot of wisdom to be gaining in the teachings of other cultures, Nephew.” 

“I know, Uncle, we’ve been studying waterbending techniques for the last year,” Zuko sighed.

“And yet you are still narrow-minded,” He teased. “Water and fire are similar. Water always flows, fire always burns but earth is strong and steady. The discipline of earthbending teaches how to fight but also how to wait. Earthbenders strike unflinchingly and with purpose. Earthbenders listen and strike where needed.”

“Why are you telling me this?” 

“Destiny often requires a similar approach. You must know when to act and when you do you must do so with everything you have. You’ve always been good at that, Prince Zuko. You bring your whole self into a fight and put everything you have into everything you do. But if you continue to burn a candle from both ends, it will be gone before you know it.” He turned to level the prince with a kind smile. “Sometimes you have to wait for your destiny to reveal itself to you before you can act. And when it does, you need to be ready.”

Zuko frowned, “But will I have to wait another three years? Ten? How long do I just stay in this purgatory?” 

“You are already following your destiny, Nephew. Right now that simply means waiting for the next turn in the path.” Zuko bristled in irritation at his Uncle’s words. Sometimes he was too wise. Zuko knew he was right but he also wanted to complain about it for a while before finding inner peace. Iroh noticed, like he always did, and changed the subject. “There is a storm coming. You shouldn’t stay out here much longer, Prince Zuko.” 

“I’ll come inside in a minute, Uncle,” He promised. Iroh gave a nod of understanding. Zuko had grown a lot since his banishment but he was still a brooding 18-year-old. Sometimes it was best to just give him space. 

“Alright, Nephew. Don’t stay up too late. We still have training bright and early!” 

Zuko chuckled as he watched his uncle leave, a warmth growing in his heart that had nothing to do with his inner flame. 

\---

The storm was swift and unforgiving. One moment Zuko was looking out on the ocean and then next he was soaked to the bone. That was hardly the worst part, however, the snow nearly blinded him and sleet and hail pounded the steel of the ship. It was hard to find purchase on the smooth deck in only his slippers but the prince continued to fight his way to the engine. Lightning struck the tower and the stack billowed smoke. 

“Prince Zuko!” He could hear Captain Jee calling to him. “Get back here! Are you insane?!” He ignored him, hauling himself up by the ladder as the long-suffering captain chased after him. “It will be fine-- _you_ won’t! Get down here!”

Zuko opened his mouth to reply but the wind whipped his breath away from him before he could make a sound. How could air hurt so much? The rain felt like needles against his skin. Despite his best efforts, his hand slipped from the metal bar. At that exact moment, the volatile waves slammed into the haul. The ship shook from the force and nearly capsized. 

He didn’t stand a chance. 

One moment he was holding on for dear life, the next he was falling. It almost felt like slow motion, watching the ship shrink before him. He could hear warning bells faintly through the storm and a frantic scream of “Man overboard!” but it was gone in an instant, swallowed up by frozen water. 

It didn’t even feel like he was in the water. It felt like he had fallen into sheets of glass. Every crash of water against him felt like it cut through his skin. His entire body went stiff from the cold--it felt like his very lifeforce had been frozen to the core. 

This must be what dying was. It was kind of funny, though. He lived through so much, nearly died from flames, and he was snuffed out easily by the spirits of the ocean. He couldn’t tell when he was above the water or below it but every other gasping breath caused him to choke. He didn’t even know if it was the rain or the ocean. 

He felt his body be lifted up with another surge of the water. He was suspended in the air just long enough to fully understand the weight of what was to come before he was slammed back down. This time he didn’t fall back into the water. His body was thrown onto the ice and a searing pain cut through his side. Zuko tried to blink the water out of his eyes but his vision was still blurred--he was already near blind in the left eye, it was a miracle that he could see anything. 

All he could see what white with bright crimson stains. He couldn’t feel his hands very well but he could tell he was no longer in the water. His hands sunk into surprisingly soft snow as he pushed himself up. 

Shelter. That was all he needed to focus on right now. He could worry about Uncle later. He could worry about his crew. He could worry about how he couldn’t feel his arms or legs anymore. Zuko stumbled as he went. He could hardly even see three feet ahead of him but there was a shadow of _something_ in the distance. He absentmindedly wondered if it was a village (the civilizations of the Southern Water Tribe were all but wiped out. Were there still villages around here?) but even if it was a small wall to hide behind it could still offer protection from the elements. (Hopefully.)

He kept his eyes focused on the wall of snow but it didn’t seem to be getting any closer. He did his best not to stumble but it felt like he was trying to walk on stilts. The only warmth he felt was from his abdomen. When Zuko reached over to find the source he found warm liquid. His hand came back bright red. He was bleeding. What had he even cut himself on? 

Every step seemed to make his wound pulsate; staining the cloth. If he didn’t treat it he would bleed out. But what the hell was he supposed to use?

“Fuck it,” Zuko growled to himself through chattering teeth. He removed his tunic to wrap around the wound. He pressed down as hard as he could manage and continued on. Well, at least the blood wouldn’t show on the bright red fabric. But the more concerning fact was that his chest was now bare and he didn’t feel any colder. 

Remembering the teachings of his Uncle, Zuko summoned his inner flame, concentrating the best he could to spread the warmth through his body. He exhaled but only a wisp of fire left his lips. He tried again but every moment pulled energy from him. 

Was the wall closer? Was he even walking forward anymore? Zuko fell to his knees, his vision swimming before him. It was so cold. Maybe if he just took a moment… just a moment… and then he would continue. 

He just had to make it to cover. _Come on, Zuko, just take one step forward._ He tried to push himself up but failed. _Come on, Zuko, crawl. You’re almost there…_

_Come on, Zuko..._

_Come on…_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sokka tries to go fishing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! I'm glad to see people actually want to read this^^ I'm planning on doing updates on Sundays so I should be sticking to a pretty regular posting schedule. I appreciate all the feedback!

“Wait! I’m coming with you!” 

Hakoda turned from where he was loading his ship, finding his young son racing towards him with a bag slung over his shoulder. “Sokka,” He smiled and knelt down to speak with him. “We talked about this. I need you here to defend the tribe.” 

“But I want to come with you! I’m strong and I’m brave and I can fight! I can help, Dad, please!” Sokka looked up at his father with pleading blue eyes and readjusted his grip on the bag. “I know I’m not 16 but I can keep up--you know I can!” 

“I know, Sokka,” Hakoda rested his hand on his son’s shoulder. “That’s why I need you to stay here. You are so smart and so strong and so _brave_. I have a different mission for you.” 

“What’s that?” Sokka didn’t hide his disappointment at not being able to join the rest of the warriors. He wanted to help--he wanted to fight. He was only a child when the black snow came but he remembered that day well. He would never let his people be terrorized like that again. 

“Our tribe will be going through difficult times in the next few years.” Hakoda didn’t bother to hide the pain in his voice and the worry behind his eyes. “The village needs a strong warrior to protect them. A good warrior, a talented hunter, and a smart young man.” He gave Sokka a smile, pushing his shoulder slightly in teasing.

Sokka clenched his jaw, looking at his father with determination. He didn’t want to look after the tribe all on his own. It was dumb, it was childish, but he wanted desperately to leave with Hakoda to fight. He wanted to do something instead of hiding like a coward in his protected village. 

Hakoda could see right through him. “I will miss you and Katara more than anything in the world, Sokka. And one of the only reasons I can go is because I know you’ll be here to protect your sister and our tribe.” He placed his hand on Sokka’s chest, his palm flat against his heart. “When I come back you’ll be of age and we can go ice dodging. You’ll show your old man just how strong a man you are, huh?” 

Hakoda managed to get a grin from the younger boy. He leaned down to press a kiss to his child’s forehead. “You’re so brave, Sokka. I’m so proud of you.” He moved to pull back and return to the ship but was yanked forward into a crushing hug from Sokka.

“I’m gonna miss you, Dad.” Sokka’s voice was muffled by Hakoda’s parka but it was still enough to break his heart. Leaving his son behind felt like leaving a part of him behind. 

“I’m going to miss you so much, Sokka.”

\--

Waking up the morning after a storm felt like waking up in a different world. By daybreak, the wind had settled and the village was simply covered in a new blanket of white. They would have to spend a lot of the morning clearing out snow but today wouldn’t be much different from any other. 

It was still early when Sokka pulled on his furs and tied his hair up. Quviasukvik was coming up soon and he would be damned if there wasn’t enough seal jerky. He would be going out later in the week to try and hunt bigger game but today he just needed to get a little fishing done. Sokka always liked fishing on the ice as the sun rose. It was peaceful and the ice seemed to glitter in the early morning sunlight. 

Sokka made it about five steps from the village wall when he noticed something in the distance. There was a lump in the snow, not terribly out of the ordinary, but there looked to be something black poking out of it. The young warrior took a cautious step forward, trying to figure out just exactly what it was when he saw the red. 

There was a long and winding trail of blood staining the snow leading up to, what he now was sure, was a body. Sokka broke into a run. Who was out there? Why would anyone leave the village during a storm? He ran a list of everyone in the village, trying to imagine who could possibly have gone out. Panuk was getting more moody lately, sure, but he wouldn’t try to run away in the middle of a snowstorm, would he? 

At first, he thought the person was dead. There was no way someone would look so pale. The skin was hardly darker than the snow around him and the very tips of his fingers and toes (because his toes were _exposed_ , where were his boots!?) were a darker grey. Sokka knew what this was. He had seen it before, though not since he was a child. He didn’t know what happened at the time but he could never forget the frozen man brought into the healing hut, his lips blue and his extremities turning black. And he could never forget the quiet that night that was broken only by the pained sobs of other tribesmen. 

Sokka didn’t stop to think. He didn’t process that this body in front of him was an outsider; he just knew that he needed help. He heaved the body onto his shoulder and hastened back to the village. He tried not to think about whether or not he was carrying a man or a corpse. 

“Sokka!” Katara looked up from her place at the fire pit as he came into view. “I thought you were--” 

“Get Gran Gran!” He called to her, “He was in the snow all night!” Katara looked at him in horror. He could understand why he might be a frightening sight. While Sokka, himself, was fine his parka was smeared with blood and the weight of the man on his shoulder forced him to walk with a slight limp. From that distance, he must look like he ran into a polar bear dog. 

“Gran Gran!” She shouted and rushed towards the healing hut, “Sokka’s hurt!” 

Kanna was waiting for him when he got to the hut, her eyes wide. “I thought you said--” She started but Sokka cut her off. (He would get in trouble for that later, he was sure.)

“I found him in the snow, I don’t know exactly how long he was out there but he’s bleeding and he’s cold and--and--” Sokka didn’t realize how hysterical he felt until he tried to speak. Gran Gran ushered him in and he laid the man down on the table for her to examine. It was then that he finally got a good look at who he had saved from the snowdrift. 

He was missing his boots completely and the other clothing he wore was only lightweight black pants. Around his waist was a tunic that was either red or turned red by the blood. His chest was bare and covered in small cuts but the deep puncture wound at his side was far more concerning. It looked like the bleeding had begun to stop but reopened when Sokka picked him up (which would explain the blood on his parka… that was gonna be hard to wash out…).

“Katara, get some hot water. Sokka get all the pelts you can find.” Kanna spoke calmly but with a finality that left no room for argument. “He is still alive but just barely. We need to work quickly.” She dove into work like she would if anyone in their tribe was hurt but there was a tense air in the hut. This man was _not one of them_ so… where did he come from?

\---

“Is he going to be okay?” Sokka popped his head into the hut for the third time in the last hour. Though it seemed like his tenacity paid off as Kanna finally waved him in with a sigh.

Sokka wasn’t able to really get a good look at the guy until now. The first thing Kanna did to take care of him was get his temperature back to normal. The man was wrapped in pelts and furs tightly and pouches of warm water were pressed against his sides so he could pull heat back into his body. After a few hours of changing out water and holding their breath, Kanna decided that his temperature was stable enough for her to treat his wound. It was serious, but it wasn’t deadly.

When Sokka knelt beside him, the man was still surrounded by pelts but his chest was left exposed. The bandage covered the entirety of his abdomen and superficial cuts littered his chest and arms but he otherwise looked unharmed. 

Unharmed. And _unfamiliar_. 

Sokka had never seen anyone like him before in his life. Everything about his features was different from his own. He was sharper and thinner; almost delicate. That by no means meant he wasn’t strong, however. His arms were well built and his hands calloused; perhaps he was a merchant? A fisherman? 

His hair was darker than anyone he knew; an inky black that fanned across his pillow and fell to his shoulders. He clearly took care of it, given how soft and shiny it looked (Not the time, Sokka.) Unlike all the men of their tribe he had no braids or beads woven in and it showed no signs of any kinks or ripples from them falling out, did he wear it down _all_ the time? 

His skin was still a frightening white but no longer deathly pale, more like the smooth ivory of whalebone. Well, almost all of his skin. The left side of his face was marred by an angry red scar covering his eye and continuing across his forehead and to his ear. The skin was rippled like seafoam and tough like seal skin. His eyebrow was completely gone and his ear slightly deformed from the burn. 

“Who is this guy?” He breathed out. 

“Your guess is as good as mine, Sokka.” Gran Gran spoke in a soft voice. “We’ll just have to ask him when he wakes up.” 

“He’s going to be okay?” Sokka couldn’t help but let the relief flood into his voice. Kanna smiled at him, brushing a stray hair from her grandson’s eyes. 

“I believe so. He must not have been in the snow too long, a few more hours and he would have died. The wound was simple enough, though he’ll need to be on bed rest for the next week.” 

There was a long pause while the two of them danced around the next question. Kanna was the one to finally break the silence. “Once we have a chance to talk to him we can decide what we’re going to do, Sokka. If this man is a danger--”

“I would throw him into the ocean myself, Gran Gran,” Sokka interrupted in a dark voice, “if he was any threat to our tribe.” 

Kanna gave him a sad smile. When had she let such resentment grow in his heart? “You would never be asked to do that and I pray to Tui and La you would never _have_ to do anything like that.” 

“I need to protect us, Gran Gran, Dad left me in charge!” Sokka flapped his arms for emphasis then dropped them back down to his sides with pink cheeks, he hated how much he seemed like a petulant child at that moment.

“And you’ve watched your father be an excellent Chief your entire life,” she reminded him, “have you ever seen him do anything all on his own? Not letting anyone help?” 

“...no.” 

“That’s right. Because our tribe is a pack. The weight of the world does not weigh on any one member’s shoulders. Right now you just need to focus on protecting your sister and the little ones.”

Sokka sighed. He wanted to do more but Gran Gran had a point. Whether he liked it or not, he was still only 17. It would be ignorant to refuse the help of the village elders who know more than him. “Okay. Once we talk to him and find out more we’ll decide what to do.” 

“Now,” Kanna stood with a groan, “I’ve had quite an exciting morning. Why don’t you watch him and come and get me when he wakes up.” She flashed Sokka with a teasing grin.

Sokka smiled back, a small laugh escaping his lips, “Yes, Gran Gran. I will.” 

\---

It wasn’t until that night that the man stirred. Sokka had completely-not-at-all dozed off while he was waiting and so his chin completely-not-at-all slid from his chin and smacked his forehead into the table when he heard him groan. Nope. Sokka rushed over to kneel on the pelts, a skin of water by his side.

The man groaned and his eyelids fluttered open. Sokka, who had been planning what cool one-liner he was gonna welcome the guy back into the land of the living with, completely lost his words at the sight. There was no other way to describe his eyes other than golden. He had never seen anything like it--like having a piece of the sun reflected at him. 

“Uh...Uncle,” The man was the first one to speak. He tried to sit up but fell back onto the furs with a hiss of pain.

“Hey, take it easy there, pal,” Sokka soothed, resting his hand on his shoulder to keep him down. “Take it slow.” 

The sound of his voice made the man’s eyes snap wide open. He looked at Sokka in disbelief which then turned into horror and finally morphed into fear. “Wh--where am I?” He looked around the hut at the ice walls decorated with animal pelts before snapping his attention back to Sokka. “Who are you?” 

It was hard to think that he’d vowed to throw this outsider into the ocean just that morning when he looked at him like that. He was young, Sokka’s age or a year older, and he was clearly scared. “My name is Sokka,” He greeted with a warm smile, “I’m the guy who pulled your ass out of a snowbank.”

Nailed it. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is a... memorable introduction.

This was not good. For a lot of reasons.

  1. He had somehow been stabbed at one point.
  2. The guy looking at him was _not_ his Uncle nor a member of his crew.
  3. He was _not_ on his ship. 



Everything about this place was different. There were pelts hung on the walls, a fire pit in the middle of the hut. A table full of salves and a collection of bottles of liquid in a variety of viscosities. _Was there a fish in one of them?_

The most interesting part of the room, however, was the person in front of him. His skin was a light smokey quartz that disappeared into a light cobalt fur coat. His eyes were cornflower blue and that matched the beads braided into his hair. His jaw was square and his shoulders broad. He was watertribe. 

Zuko was in the watertribe. 

The events of the night came crashing down on him as panic set in. He fell into the freezing waters where the ocean slammed him around like a piece of driftwood. He crawled around the snow, he was bleeding… There was a wall in the distance, a village he could get help in. 

Well. It looks like he made it. And because the man before him didn’t look like he wanted to tear his limbs apart it looks like they didn’t know who he was. Rather _what_ he was. 

“This is usually the part where you tell me your name,” The guy in front of him prompted with a teasing grin. 

Zuko shook his head a little, ignoring the heat that came to his cheeks. “Uh, Z-'' _Wait. Wait, wait, wait, you idiot!_ He aborted the beginning of his name he had let slip and morphed it into a bizarre-sounding sneeze. “I’m, uh, Lee…” He rubbed the back of his neck with his right hand, praying to Agni that he didn’t sound as guilty as he felt. 

“Lee.” The man repeated his name as if it were his first time hearing anything like it. “Lee…” He said it softer the next time. Not quite a whisper, but a hushed tone that implied he was speaking to himself more than he was speaking to him. 

“Yeah,” Zuko repeated with a little more confidence. “My name is Lee.” 

“Well, Lee,” The teen--Sokka, leaned back to grab a water skin. “Wanna explain why I found you bleeding out in the middle of a blizzard?” He passed him the water and Zuko drank with unrestrained greed before it even occurred for him to be suspicious of it. Well, it _tasted_ like water at least. 

“I got thrown off my ship,” He told him. He spoke a little slower than normal, which could easily be explained by his current state, in order to give himself a little more time to think. This situation was _real_ and even though this Sokka guy didn’t pose an immediate threat to him that didn’t mean he was safe. 

After all, he grew up hearing the stories of the Southern Water Tribe. They were barbaric, still hunting with clubs and spears. They attacked Fire Nation ships that came to trade with them without mercy and he was even told that they _ate_ the soldiers that were captured. 

He knew in his gut that those stories were just that. It was propaganda, he knew that. But still, these were people from the _South Pole_. It was insane enough to choose to live in conditions such as there (where you can _die_ just by going outside), surely these people had to be some different breed of human. Although, Sokka didn’t look _too_ different than anyone he’d met before.

Throughout his banishment, he learned more about the world. His Uncle prioritized learning about the other _elements_ and _bending styles,_ though. He didn’t focus too much on the anthropology of it all. How savage were they? If he was found out, what horrible thing would they do to him? 

“I’m a sailor on a merchant ship,” he carefully formulated his own backstory. “We got caught in the storm, I went overboard.”

“I’m surprised you lived,” Sokka hummed, “Gran Gran said that you would have died if you were out there any longer.” He puffed out his chest some. “She said I saved your life.” 

_Gran Gran?_ Is that a name for a spiritual leader in the tribe? The confusion in his eyes must have been clear (Zuko was never skilled at hiding his emotions) as Sokka continued. “She’s one of the village elders and a healer. Luckily, or unluckily depending who’s talking, we’ve seen hypothermia cases before so she knew what to do.” 

Zuko nodded and glanced around the hut. They were alone, whoever this Gran Gran woman was, she had left. Though he had no doubt that he would speak with her soon if she was a village elder. 

“You look weird!” The other man blurted out suddenly. He clapped a hand over his mouth almost immediately after, his eyes wide in disbelief at his own tactlessness. “I mean--!” Even with darker skin it was easy to see the bright blush. It was endearing how the tips of his ears turned a soft garnet. (Not the time, Zuko.) “You obviously aren’t from here,” He finished lamely. 

“No,” Zuko agreed, “I’m uh, from the Earth Kingdom.” He tried to rack his brain for some name he could give, blurting out the first one that came to mind. “I’m from Omashu!” 

Seriously? He’d never even _been_ to Omashu. He’d just heard his Uncle talk about visiting one of his old pai sho buddies over there. 

Luckily, it didn’t seem like Sokka knew anything about Omashu, either. “Oh, cool. Earth Kingdom, right.” He gave Zuko a comforting grin. “Well, don’t worry. You’re safe here. No ashmarkers come down this far south anymore.” 

Zuko tried not to look too stunned at the casual use of a slur against his people. He clearly failed, however, as Sokka continued. “I mean,” He gestured vaguely to his face, “You must have seen the war--” 

Zuko’s mouth fell open, his eyes wide in disbelief. Did he just... gesture to his--

“--Uh, I better go get Gran Gran, haha!” Sokka practically yelled as he stood up, his face beet red. He looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here and Zuko kind of agreed. “Okay bye!” The watertribe boy gave him a half aborted wave and all but ran out of the hut. 

Agni above, how was he going to get himself out of this mess? 

\---

Luckily Zuko didn’t have too much time to wallow in self-pity before the curtain of the hut was pulled back again. This time an old woman came in, Sokka (thankfully) not in tow. 

“My grandson told me you were awake,” She mused, coming to sit next to him on the floor. “And he informed me that he was very kind and polite to you.” She flashed Zuko a grin, “So I apologize for whatever rude thing he said.”

This woman had kind eyes and a soft face. She gave off not an air of ominous finality like he feared but instead one of maternal concern. She reminded him of Iroh, actually, which sent a wave of guilt over him. How long would he look for him? How long would it take for him to lose hope? To think Zuko dead? 

“You have a pretty bad wound,” She gestured to his abdomen which he only now realized was wrapped tightly in fresh bandages. His stomach dropped. She must have been the one to treat him, this Gran Gran woman. And if his shirt was off she must have seen--

“Your secret is safe with me.” The kind woman seemed to pick up on his panic without him having to say a word. She really was like Iroh. Maybe it was an old person thing? “My name is Kanna.” 

Zuko’s brows pulled together, “I thought your name was Gran Gran?” 

He was rewarded with a surprisingly genuine laugh. “That’s just what Sokka and Katara call me,” She explained, “though you’re welcome to if you’d like.” There was a hint of a twinkle in her eyes. 

“So, Lee, tell me a little more about how you got here? Sokka said that you were a sailor on a merchant ship?” Kanna watched him without animosity but still a careful weariness. Made sense, he would be suspicious of himself, too. 

“Yes,” He nodded, sitting up a little more. It strained his side but wasn’t too painful. “I just want to get back home. If I can just send a messenger hawk I can leave on the next ship and get out of your hair as soon as possible.”

“Well I’m afraid that won’t be too soon,” She informed him. “We don’t have messenger hawks here. And the merchant ships only come every four months. You’re lucky though, it’ll only be three weeks until the next one comes.” 

_Three weeks_ . Zuko felt like he could cry. He turned his head to the side, desperately trying to hide the turmoil he felt. _Uncle._ Would he still be looking for him in three weeks? 

_Of course not_. A dark voice, familiar and laced with disappointment, growled in his ear. _Why would he? Why would anyone waste time on a failure like you?_

 _He’ll look for you until the end of time_. A softer voice spoke to him, one that reminded him of the sun on his skin and the spray of water on his feet. A voice that would hold him close and remind him that he was loved. _He will always keep looking for you_. 

“Perhaps it will arrive early, this month,” Kanna spoke in a tender voice; the kind one might use to soothe an injured child. Zuko didn’t want to think about how that made him feel. “We’ll make sure you get back home, Lee. And we will take good care of you until then.” Kanna stood once more, turning to stoke the fire. “I’m sure you’re hungry. You’re in luck, we’re having Susaat tonight. I’m sure a warm meal will help you feel better.” 

“Thank you,” Zuko hummed. Agni, what was Southern Water Tribe cuisine like? Spicy, hopefully. Kanna gave him one last smile before leaving the hut. 

Well, whatever test that was he seemed to pass… right? Maybe he wasn’t going to be sacrificed to some moon spirit. Unless Susaat was some code word for poison. But why would they go through the trouble of saving his life if they were just going to kill him? _Oh no_ , what if they knew who he was and Susaat was some kind of _firebender stew_.

 _Ashmaker_. The slur still bounced around his skull as he lied back down on the surprisingly comfortable furs. He knew of the campaign against the Southern Water Tribe. He knew that it had been bloody. There was no way he could let them find out who he was; not only an enemy but the damn _prince_. He just had to survive until the next ship came. He could do that. 

Thankfully, it wasn’t Sokka who brought his soup that night but rather an older woman about the same age his mother would be at this point who introduced herself as Kirima. 

It sure as hell wasn’t spicy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so touched that people actually like this TT.TT Though I have to warn you, the more I'm writing this the longer it just keeps getting. Hope you're along for the ride! As always, feedback is much appreciated^^ Comments give me a will to live.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sokka is a dumb ass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *gasp* A double update! This chapter isn't as long so I figured I would give it to y'all early. As always your comments give me life and encourage me to keep writing! Thank you so much <3

“I am an idiot!” Sokka flopped down dramatically next to his sister with an exaggerated sigh. 

“I know that, Sokka. You don’t need to state the obvious.” 

“Hey!” The teen sat up again with a disgruntled look, “Katara! You’re not supposed to _agree_ with me!” 

“Well, it’s true.” This time she put down the anorak she was working on to look at her brother. He had scared her something terrible earlier and she was still a little irked about it. “What happened? I thought you were with the iglaaķ?"

“I was!” Sokka scrubbed a hand down his face, “And I totally blew it. I was going to be all smooth and the hero and all I did was insult him. Throw me to the ocean, Katara. It’s my time. I’ve had a nice life, maybe Tui--ow!” He was cut off abruptly by a smack to the back of his head. 

“Stop being so dramatic, what did you say?” 

Sokka looked away, suddenly more shy than his sister had seen him before. If there was one thing Sokka _wasn’t_ , it was shy. “He kinda has a giant scar across his face? And I was trying to assure him that no Fire Nation scum would be able to get him here and I kinda just _pointed at it_ …” 

“Sokka.” Katara, the ever long-suffering sister, groaned. “I’m sure it wasn’t actually that bad. Just apologize, the guy has to like you at least a little bit. You saved his life.” 

“Yeah.” It didn’t stop Sokka from pouting. “I just… Tara he’s _my age_. I have a chance to actually interact with another guy my age and I totally blew it. He’ll never want to talk to me again after that.” 

The waterbender’s eyes softened and she reached out to rest her hand on her brother’s. “I’m sure he’s just scared right now. Did you at least find out anything about him?” 

For as much as he liked to complain about Katara she was the closest friend he had. He hated to admit it but she was able to read him like a book. Which meant she was able to say exactly what he needed to hear. It _also_ meant he couldn’t get away with lying to her at _all_ , which was its own problem. 

“He’s from the Earth Kingdom,” He reported. “Omasha or something. He’s a sailor on a merchant ship, that’s how he got into the water. Oh--and his name is Lee.” 

“Lee.” Katara repeated the name before laughing softly. “From the Earth Kingdom, huh? He must know more about the war--he might even know about Dad! He’s sailing in the southern Earth Kingdom, right? We should ask--"

“I think the war might be a touchy subject,” Sokka frowned. He remembered how Lee looked at him in horror when he mentioned the ashmakers. They must have hurt him. Hell, the proof of it was right on his face. Did they raid his village, too? Had he lost family? Was his father off fighting in the war? He was probably as scared of them as they were. Heartless demons who burned everything they touch and caused nothing but death and destruction--who wouldn’t be terrified of them?

“Well, I’m glad he’s okay at least.” Katara would never admit it but she had been wringing her hands with worry just like Sokka had been. For the last three hours, she had been sewing the same patch on the spare anorak they found. Would it fit him? She hadn’t gotten a good look at him when they brought his body to the healing hut. He looked so _cold_ and so _pale_. Maybe she should try and find more furs to line it…? 

“Yeah, me too.” Sokka sighed. “I’m gonna go apologize.” 

“Are you sure that’s--”

“Thanks Tara! You give the best advice!”

“That’s not what I--” 

“Can’t hear you, on my way to repair a friendship!”

“Sokka! Get back here!” 

\---

“No.” 

“Come on, Gran Gran I just wanna say sorry.” Sokka pleaded with his grandmother, who stopped him outside the healing hut with a firm look. 

“I thought you were kind and polite, Sokka, what would you need to apologize for?” Kanna fixed him with a classic Gran Gran™ look: _I love you but you’re being an idiot._

Sokka could feel the tips of his ears heating up. “Oh, uh, I mean…” 

“Give him space, Tutaaluga, he just woke up.” She put her hand on his shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze. “He just woke up in a different nation after almost freezing to death and getting impaled on a glacier. It’s been a long day.” 

Sokka glanced at the sky where the sun was already low. It was that time of the year soon, the endless night. He needed to get more fishing done before that. It would be hard to go hunting in the dark and he would be damned if this Quviasukvik was without any Muktuk. (And maybe he wanted it to be extra special this year, so what? Not like there was a _reason_ … He was just in a festive mood. That’s all.) 

“I’ll go fishing tomorrow,” He sighed. “Katara is making him some clothes and I think he’ll fit into Nanook’s old boots.” Sokka bit his lip, “He’s… he’s gonna stay with us, right?” Just that morning the two of them prepared to banish this stranger into the arctic to die but now that he saw him, saw how _scared_ he was to be there… There was no way he would let that happen. Unconscious he looked like some big bad warrior, built to fight and clearly experience if his coulisses on his hands were anything to go by but when he realized where he was, his eyes widened in dread, and his body tensed to flee--if he was a danger to them he was a damn good actor. 

There was a sadness in Kanna’s eyes that Sokka hadn’t seen in a long while. What had Lee said to her? Had she seen the same thing Sokka did? Sokka couldn’t hide the dread he felt; this teen was the same age as him. What if it was Sokka in this situation or, even worse, Katara?

“Yes,” she affirmed. “He’ll be leaving on the next merchant ship.” His grandmother paused as if debating whether to speak or not. Finally, she murmured, “Try not to overwhelm him, okay? If you’re going to bother him try not to do it too much.” 

“I’m not--” Sokka was cut off by a look from Kanna he knew far too well that could only be described as loving exasperation. “Okay,” He sighed. “I won't.” _Tonight._ Tomorrow, however, was fair game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inuit Translations:  
> iglaaķ (stranger, outsider)  
> tutaaluga (grandson)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A peace offering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And back to your regularly scheduled update! I am glad that everyone seems to be enjoying this--I am having so much fun writing it. Please enjoy The First Meeting: Part 2 >.<

The next day was _painfully boring._ Kanna came in twice to change his bandages but other than that he was all alone in this hut with nothing to keep him company other than the dead animal skins on the walls. Zuko couldn’t tell if they were supposed to be some display of hunting prowess, tokens to ward off evil spirits, or just there to provide an intimidating ambiance. 

Zuko wasn’t even sure what time it was given how he was doing a lot more sleeping than he had in the last… Agni, three years? Zuko wasn’t exactly known for lounging around in bed during his free time. In fact, he was known around the ship for _avoiding_ sleep and alone time. Agni, he was willing to talk to _anyone_ just to stop his mind from racing. Though, when the curtain to the hut pulled open, Zuko wasn’t sure if he really meant that. 

“Hey, Uiñagliķsuķ.” Sokka waltzed in with a grin, a leather bag in his hand. Zuko frowned at him, instantly on the alert. He didn’t recognize the word he called him; concern and distrust seeping into his features. “Uh--sleepy,” Sokka translated with a wince. “I guess you wouldn’t know…” When he made it to Zuko residence on the furs his demeanor changed, some of that confidence falling away to expose something much more genuine. 

“Good morning, Lee,” He greeted properly, “uh… I wanted to apologize for earlier. Sometimes I just blurt things out, Katara yells at me so much for it,” He laughed awkwardly, reaching up to rub at his neck. “I’m sorry I was such a jerk. I brought you some seal jerky!” Sokka held out the bag to Zuko with a shy grin and the prince couldn’t stop his heart from melting a little bit. He did look completely sincere and considering what Kanna said that day he was sure got quite the lecture. 

Zuko took the bag, offering his own small smile. He was stuck here for the next three weeks, he shouldn’t go making enemies. Sokka looked visibly relieved and plopped down next to him on the pelt. 

“I also figured you were bored as hell just hanging out here on your own,” The teen laughed. He took a piece of the seal jerky from the bag ( _I thought that was my food…)_ and popped it in his mouth. “And I’m not gonna lie, I haven’t interacted with a guy my age in like two years.” 

“Really?” Zuko took a piece of the seal jerky from the bag. It didn’t look appetizing at all. It was hard and leathery like some kind of smelly rope. “Why not?” He took a bite out of the jerky, frowning and biting down harder when he felt like he barely made a dent. He had to yank it back with his teeth to finally take a bite. 

Wow. _Wow_ . The Sasaat tasted like bland goop but _this_ was something else. It was so salty he wanted to spit it out the moment it touched his tongue. Whatever taste he was able to get other than _pure salt_ was chewy and gamey. How could anyone want to eat this?!

Sokka continued on, completely oblivious to Zuko trying not to choke next to him. “Yeah, all the warriors had to go off and fight in the war--well almost all of the warriors.” He snagged another piece of seal jerky. _What a monster_. “My dad--the chief--left me in charge here. You know, to hunt and keep everyone safe.” 

“Did he now,” Zuko couldn’t help how his lips turned up. It was kind of endearing how his chest puffed out with pride.

“Yup. And apparently, he left me here to save earth kingdom sailors, too.” Sokka nudged his shoulder slightly. “So tell me more about you, Lee.” 

Okay. Okay, so here was the problem: Zuko was a horrible liar. He always had been. And it got him in trouble more than once as a child. There was no way he could confidently weave a fake backstory and keep all his facts straight. It would be in his best interest to tell the truth for the most part. He would just be a little vaguer; omit a few key details. “Well, I’ve been sailing for the last three years.” 

“Three years?” Sokka let out a low whistle. “That’s a long time. That would make you, what 14 at the time?” 

“15,” he corrected him, his eyes falling to the side. 

“That’s pretty young. Why did you start so early, was it the war? I don’t know much about how it's affecting the Earth Kingdom.” 

Zuko looked at the leather bag in his hands, guilt twisting his gut. “I’ve managed to avoid the war while I’m at sea.” Not a lie. While he was under the guise of trying to locate a war-ending weapon, Zuko actually didn’t see much of the war. Prior to his banishment, he wasn’t included in war meetings and once he left he was stuck in his own little nation of his ship. 

“And when you weren’t?” Sokka looked at Zuko carefully. There was a soft curiosity there that the prince hadn’t seen in a while. It reminded him of when he was younger listening to Lu Ten tell him stories of his training and what he and other students overheard about the war. 

“I think you already know,” Zuko huffed and gestured his hand up to his face. There was a tense air between them as he leveled the other with a deadpan look. 

Sokka blinked at him once, twice, then burst out into laughter. “You asshole!” He pushed Zuko’s shoulder with a little more force, albeit friendly. “You know I feel terrible about that!” 

“Well,” Zuko hummed, pulling the bag of jerky back and out of Sokka’s reach as he tried to grab another, “I guess we’re even now.” A small smile tugged at the side of his lips of its own accord and he was distantly reminded of his uncle talking about the push and pull of water.

Sokka had an interesting laugh. It wasn’t ‘beautiful’ or ‘sweet’ or anything, in fact it was a little too loud for comfort and left him wheezing after. But his laugh shook his whole body and his smile sent a wave of warmth across the hut. It was… nice.

“Alright, you got me there,” Sokka relented. “Man, once you’re feeling better enough to go on a walk you have to meet Katara, she likes anyone who gives me a hard time.” 

“Who’s Katara?” Zuko asked. It was the second time Sokka mentioned the name since he came in to speak with him.

“Oh, she’s my sister. Total pain in the ass, but aren’t all sisters like that?” _Please don’t ask…_ “Do you have a sister?” _Fuck._

Zuko hesitated to answer. Family was a sensitive subject for a lot of people, hopefully Sokka wouldn’t read too closely into how he paused. “Yeah,” He turned his gaze to the flickering fire pit. “But we’re not very close.”

“No?” Sokka raised a brow, “I can’t even imagine not being close to Katara, we’ve spent our entire lives together.” 

“Yeah,” Zuko mumbled, “Some families just aren’t like that.” The words felt like ash on his tongue. It always felt like that when he spoke about the family he left behind. “I’m glad you’re close. Are you all close-knit here?” 

“Oh yeah,” Sokka smiled, “That’s one of the things I love the most about my home and also one of the worst parts about it. Gran Gran always calls us a pack; our ancestors learned to protect and care for each other from the wolves, you know.” 

It was an interesting thing to watch Sokka talk about his tribe with such pride. Not that national pride was anything out of the ordinary, Zuko himself was proud to be a child of Agni, but the words he used to describe what he admired were the same words that had been used as insults against his tribe. The Fire Nation called them animals, savage wolves with no interest in anyone but themselves. 

It never crossed his mind that wolves were pack animals. 

“How so?” He pressed Sokka to continue. 

“Well, when you’re a kid, you have your parents but then you also have _everyone’s_ parents. So someone is always there to take care of you if you need help but it’s not always _your_ parents.” Sokka pulled his knees up to his chest as he spoke, a softer and more vulnerable look crossing those sky blue eyes. “But since my Dad is the chief I didn’t get to have that much alone time with him--he always had so much to do. He always made time for us at the end of the day, sure, but that was with Katara. It’s different to _actually_ have alone time with your dad--you know?” 

“Yeah,” Zuko whispered, “Having someone’s full attention is different.” _More dangerous._

“Exactly,” Sokka nodded in agreement, “but we _always_ got to hang out and talk when we went fishing.” 

“Fishing?” Zuko looked over at him with his eyebrow raised. He hadn’t expected a Water Tribe chief to take his son _fishing_ of all things. 

“We used to go fishing right as the sun was coming up. It would just be me and him on the ice all morning. You get colder a little quicker since you’re just sitting and not running around or anything so you huddle like a pair of penguins. And still, when you get back home at the end of the day your fingers are stiff and your toes are kinda swollen but you get the best sleep of your life.” 

“That sounds… nice?” 

“Well, yeah,” Sokka laughed at Zuko’s bewildered expression. “At the end of the day, you’ve provided for the entire tribe. It’s what a man is supposed to do: provide for his family.” 

The words stuck with Zuko more than he expected them to. _A man is supposed to provide for his family_ . There was nothing revolutionary about the thought. In fact, there was something incredibly _human_ about it.

This revelation, of course, was laced with guilt. These people had been nothing but nice to him since he woke up here and just last night Zuko was so sure they were going to poison him. He knew that the Fire Nation’s teaching had been biased but they were absolutely outlandish compared to the picture Sokka was painting him. “That sounds… nice,” he repeated but this time he was far more sure of the words. 

The two of them rested in contemplative silence for a while; Zuko’s mind racing the entire time. Why hadn’t he asked his uncle more about the Water Tribes? He spent hours every day practicing waterbending forms and yet he never bothered to ask what they were like as a people. He knew that the waterbending teaching came from the push and pull of the tides in a constant back and forth but it never occurred to him to ask his uncle about the teachings of their culture. Why didn’t he ask if they were as feral as he was taught? 

A tiny voice in the back of his mind told him it was because he was scared of the answer.

“I promised Gran Gran I wouldn’t bother you too much,” Sokka stood with a sigh, “so I’ll let you get some more rest. But hey--” He gave Zuko a mockingly firm look, “don’t you go spoiling your dinner with all that seal jerky!” 

_Yeah, pal, you don’t have to worry about that._ “Okay, okay, I won’t.” Zuko ducked his head to hide his grin. When he looked back up Sokka was giving him a bright smile that reminded him of the warmth of holding a cup of jasmine tea close to his chest. “I’ll talk to you later, Sokka.” 

“Yeah…” he nodded and gave him a half wave, his confident demeanor returning. “I’ll see you around, Lee.” Sokka attempted a sauve exit. Zuko was kind enough to pretend he didn’t notice him trip on the way out. 

\---

“And how were the brutes of the south neutralized by Firelord Azulon?” His tutor fixed Zuko with a cold gaze as he racked his brains. They hadn’t spoken about the southern campaign in a while. It was the middle of the summer and even in his lightest clothing, he felt like he was melting in the blistering heat of the classroom. He was a firebender, sure, but even he had his limits. 

Though… maybe the sweltering heat wasn’t alone in making him uncomfortable. Dread and wicked anticipation rumbled in his gut. He remembered reading about this, he did! But there was so much he was supposed to remember it was impossible to keep all of the information straight. 

“Firelord Azulon…” Zuko spoke tentatively, “used, uh… there were expeditions…” 

The stinging strike to his knuckles burned sharply but thankfully did not last. “At least have the honor to admit your own idiocy,” his tutor hissed at him before straightening up once more. “After a series of surprise raids on our ships, Firelord Azulon launched a campaign to destroy the Southern Water Tribe army before it could mobilize for a full attack. His quick thinking saved thousands of lives and prevented adding a second front to the war.” 

Zuko looked away and pursed his lips. Right. Why was he so bad at remembering all of this? Azula never had a problem with it. She never had a problem with anything. Everything just came so easily to her… 

“And what of the tribes now?” His tutor continued. Zuko tensed; he couldn’t mess this up twice in a row. If he did there was no chance his father wouldn’t be told about this. 

“There is no more southern civilization,” Zuko parroted his earlier teachings, “they were forsaken by their spirits and lost their bending. The only people who remain are no threat.” 

The tutor turned to show Zuko how his lips turned down in displeasure. Terror rose to his throat like bile. What had he messed up? “Almost,” his teacher corrected, “though the creatures who remain down there are not people--they are _savages_.” 

“Savages,” Zuko repeated under his scrutinizing gaze. 

“Correct, Prince Zuko. Savages who will tear any outsider limb from limb without hesitation. Out great Firelord Azulon saved us all from those _wolves_.”

That night, terrifying images danced around his head as he tried to fall asleep. Large creatures with dangerous fangs and bloodied clubs. Savages who carried the heads of noble Fire Nation soldiers on pikes. Animals who cleansed themselves in the blood of their enemies under the full moon. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sokka goes fishing (attempt no. 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... Tuesday is the next Sunday? It's a little late but there is lots of cute zukka to make up for it! Thinks have been kinda hard lately but I'm going to do my best to keep on the regular schedule! And I'm really excited about where this is going and all the positive feedback helps keep me motivated^^   
> This chapter was inexplicably difficult for me to write, so I hope it turned out okay! Happy New Year!

“Is he going over there again? He hasn’t even had lunch!” Kirima laughed as she joined Kanna over the food. “I never thought I’d see the day Sokka picked a boy over a meal.” 

Kanna looked fondly after her grandson as he carried a large bundle of clothing to the healing hut. “It’s nice,” She hummed, “I’ve never seen him excited like this since the men left. I think it’s good for him to make a friend around his age.” 

Kirima paused, her eyes resting on the stew. “And when he leaves?” The question had been hanging in the air for the last two days. Once Sokka was able to talk to Lee he visited him whenever he could. Kanna managed to keep that down to twice a day and figured that once the novelty wore off things would return to normal. But after the third day the mothers started to worry. It was the sixth day today and the young man’s infatuation was hard to miss.

Kanna paused and took a long moment to think before she answered. “Hakoda was always good at making friends,” She told her, “as a child he was obnoxiously charming. He was always good at bonding with people--he still is. I think that’s part of why he is a good chief.” She winked at Kirima, “But you didn’t come over here to listen to me brag about my son. Sokka reminds me a lot of him. He’s good at connecting with people.” 

“It’s a good skill to have,” Kirima hummed. Sokka was a kind and bright child. He followed Hokoda around everywhere he could and was always trying to learn things from others. After Kya died he grew up to be fiercely protective of his family and his tribe. “It will make him a good chief.” 

“If he wants to be,” Kanna shrugged. “If…” She was quiet again, enough so that Kirima laid her hand on her shoulder, worry bringing her brows together. 

“Kanna?” 

“If he decides to stay,” She finally told her. When Kanna looked up her eyes held a sad acceptance. “When the boy leaves.”

“You think he’ll want to go with him?” She couldn’t hide the surprise in her voice. “Leave the tribe?” 

“He’s gotten a taste of the world.” Kanna smiled sadly, happy for her grandson despite the sorrow it gave her, “You know how curious he is. I don’t think he would do it on his own, but I think he would if he thought it was okay.” 

Kirima looked at her hands. She didn’t often hear Kanna speak like this. She sounded solemn but she didn’t sound sad. “Is it okay?” She asked in a small voice. 

Kanna returned to her cooking with a long sigh that she usually reserved for Hakoda. “Only the spirits know with that one, Iļannaķ.” 

\--

“Good Morning, Alianaķtuķ!” Sokka called as he pushed the hut curtain open to find Lee fiddling with an empty bottle. His skin was almost a soft pink given how much time he spent by the fire now and his eyes were bright and attentive, nothing like the animalistic fear he had first shown him. That part dug at the back of his mind, how scared Lee had been. It was clear he didn’t want to talk about the war and based on how he reacted to waking up in a strange village Sokka had to guess he had seen the war. Sokka no longer let his eyes linger on the scar when he spoke with Lee but it still popped into his head at night when he was trying to fall asleep. There was no  _ natural _ way something like that could have happened. (The implication of that made him want to growl and made the protective wolf inside of him pace.)

“Alion, what?” Lee almost dropped the bottle at the sound of his voice but any surprise was quickly morphed into annoyance. Sokka laughed at him, the other’s attempt to pronounce his native language always made Sokka’s heart feel lighter. “Are you going to keep calling me names I don’t understand every day?” 

Lee rolled his eyes but Sokka could see how his lips turned up at the corners. “It means lonely and that’s not a very positive attitude, Suamrnaktuk, I like to think I’m teaching you a new word every day!”

Lee groaned, his head falling back to expose the ivory column of his neck. Which didn’t matter. Obviously. Just an observation. “So you’re really going to keep doing this every day? I might have to impale myself on another iceberg.” 

“Then you’ll just be a captive audience for longer,” Sokka countered. He tossed a pile of blue clothing at Lee with a proud grin. “Unless you like being in here all the time.” 

“What do you mean?” Lee sat up fully and looked at the clothes Sokka gave him. They were a little worn in but Katara had patched up any holes and added some more fur and it was basically good as new. “What’s this?”

Sokka grinned as Lee inspected the parka. He watched his expression change from surprise to confusion to excitement and back to confusion. “You’re very own anorak, you’re going to need it where we’re going.” Sokka was practically bouncing with excitement. Before he could even let Lee guess he blurted out his surprise. “Gran Gran is letting me take you fishing with me today!” 

Lee’s eyes widened and a small smile came back to his face. Sokka felt himself swell with pride. He was initially worried that Lee wouldn’t want his first time out in the tribe to be spent with Sokka but he at least seemed okay with it. And if they were going fishing that meant plenty of time for just the two of them to talk. Not like Sokka was trying to go out of his way for alone time with him! It was just that that village was so small it was sometimes difficult to have a private conversation. 

Besides, he liked talking with Lee. He came to visit the other as often as Gran Gran would let him (he had never been so good at getting his chores done before). He often liked to sit by the fire and tell Lee stories. The other seemed to like hearing about what trouble he and Katara used to get into and he laughed at all of Sokka’s terrible (fantastic) jokes. In fact, he told him they reminded him of his Uncle. Sokka liked to think he was able to help make him a little less homesick.

“Really? Thank A--the spirits I’ve been so bored.” Lee perked up and grabbed the parka. Sokka was next to Lee when he was lying down more often than not so when he stood up to put on the extra layers he couldn’t help but stare for a moment. He was taller than Sokka but not by too much and he was much thinner than he had first realized. Once more the word delicate danced around in his mind. He inexplicably reminded Sokka of elegantly carved patterns in whalebone. 

“Yup, I’m breaking you out of here,” He puffed his chest out and passed Lee a pair of gloves. He watched as the older man pulled his head through the top of his coat with a soft grunt. His hair was still loose and half sticking up on the left side from the hood. Sokka slid into a warm smile at the sight. Over the last few days of spending so much time with him it felt like every little thing he did was endearing.

“Oh, uh,” Sokka dug around through his pockets before producing a hair tie for Lee. “Here! It’ll help keep your hair out of your eyes.” 

Lee blinked at him a few times in surprise before taking the tie. He pulled back the top part of his hair to gather in a bun on the top of his head. Sokka had never seen someone wear their hair up like that but it suited Lee well. The teen turned to look at Sokka with a shy smile, looking down at himself before nodding. “Do I look ready for fishing?” 

His clothes were traditional watertribe. He wore heavy leather boots and thick pants. The anorak was a little too long and fell just to his mid-knee. There was a good amount of space between his sleeves and his skin which wasn’t exactly good for keeping out snow but was certainly adorable (objectively speaking, of course). Still, even with the clothes, he didn’t look like a member of the watertribe. His golden eyes and pale skin were a sharp contrast to dark browns and light blues; his red lips were a distracting splash of crimson. 

“Perfect.” Sokka nodded in agreement. There was a half pause before he hurriedly tacked on, “for fishing! Perfect for fishing--great fishing outfit…” He cleared his throat, “Anyway! Let’s head out, okay? It’ll be dark soon.” 

Sokka all but dragged Lee out of the hut and over to the canoe. He was eager to bring him out to the ice both because it would be fun to have a change of scenery but he also was excited to show off how beautiful his homeland could be. You know, when it’s not trying to kill you. 

It didn’t take long for the two of them to make it to Sokka’s usual spot. The village was just a little lump in the distance from where they gathered on the floating ice. Sokka usually liked to fish from the canoe (it was a little warmer that way) but Gran Gran made it  _ very _ clear that while he was allowed to take Lee fishing he had to be careful and make sure he didn’t overexert himself. So sitting on the ice it was. 

“Well, you’re a much better fishing partner than Katara,” Sokka laughed as he finished setting the two of them up. He didn’t have too high hopes for Lee if the way he gripped the fishing pole like a spear was any indication but he would still set him up for success. 

Lee sat down next to him with a huff and took the pole. “So… what am I supposed to do with this?” 

Sokka laughed, “Now you just wait.” He couldn’t stop his smile as the other rolled his eyes dramatically. 

Sokka was able to count to 26 before Lee groaned and laid back on the ice. “This is worse than just sitting in the hut all day.” It made the watertribesman chuckle and he picked up his pole for him. “How is this an upgrade?” 

“Well, you know, fresh air?” Sokka teased and reached over to poke his cheek. He was quickly learning a lot of things about how Lee expressed his emotions. First a foremost: Lee was a giant grump--or at least he pretended to be. His persistent blush always gave him away. Lee, also, was a very attentive listener. For all his eye-rolling and faux-annoyance he remembered everything that Sokka told him. Sometimes he even remembered things Sokka only mentioned in passing--stuff he was  _ sure _ he wasn’t paying attention to. As much as he tried to act all cool and distant he was far more kind and surprisingly shy. 

“Perfect. Fresh air. Yay.” He sat up to look at Sokka with a raised brow. “Why don’t you like fishing with your sister?” 

Sokka shrugged, “Besides all the nagging she always ends up playing with her stupid magic water and I always end up soaked.” He rolled his eyes. “I love her and all but sometimes I want to chuck her into the snowdrift.” 

“Magic water?” Lee asked in a surprisingly stunned voice. “She’s a waterbender?”

“Yeah.” Sokka looked over with an affectionate smile. Sure she drove him crazy but he was still so proud of his little sister. The only waterbender in the south pole--the only one blessed by Tui and La. He was proud that she was special. Even if that meant he was just… Sokka. The guy with the waterbender sister. 

“I thought there weren’t any more benders in the south pole,” Lee mused to himself. He got that far off look in his eyes that Sokka sometimes noticed. A pensive gaze that sometimes drew him away from the world and deep into his mind. Most of the time Sokka didn’t rush him and just waited for Lee to come back to him. He would kill to know what he was thinking about, though. 

“There aren’t really, it’s just her.” Sokka’s happiness fell, falling into his own contemplative stare at the hole in the ice. “They took them all from us,” He whispered. 

“They?” 

“The  _ Fire Nation _ ,” Sokka spat the name and glared at the water. “They raided and attacked our tribe for decades until they killed or captured every last one. Gran Gran is one of the only elders left that even remembers waterbenders.” 

There was a long pause where neither of the boys spoke. The air between them held a sense of somber grief. They hadn’t really talked about the Fire Nation since their first meeting, something Sokka did on purpose. Whenever he brought up those monsters Lee drew back and seemed… sad. It just made him even more captivated by him. What was Lee always thinking about? What happened back in Omashu? While Sokka yearned to know, he didn’t want to pry; he hated seeing that hurt look in his eyes. 

“So why haven’t they come for Katara?” He finally asked.

Sokka’s grip on his fishing pole tightened and his jaw clenched. He didn’t have to tell him. Sokka didn’t like to talk about it--hell, he  _ didn’t _ talk about it. Ever. To anyone. And yet he found the words flowing from his lips without apprehension, “The last raid was when Katara and I were just kids. They killed our mother.” Sokka stubbornly didn’t look from the water. He didn’t want Lee to see how his eyes burned with hot tears. He didn’t want him to see how his lower lip trembled. 

A gentle hand on his shoulder made Sokka look over. Lee was right there next to him, his face mirroring his own pain. “The Fire Nation took my mother, too,” He murmured. “It hurts. And it never stops hurting. But there is nothing wrong with letting people who love you help you carry the load.” Sokka faintly contemplated how Lee’s words echoed Gran Gran’s as the other flushed, looking away in a hurry. “I mean--not that I love you or anything, I just met you! I just--uh, I’m just saying if you ever want to, uh, talk about it or anything…”

Sokka barked a laugh, the weight of their conversation lifting and giving way to the friendly ease he managed to cultivate with Lee. He yanked the other boy closer and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “Thanks, Asik.” 

\--

After two hours Sokka caught five fish and Lee was… trying his best. 

“This is stupid--I hate fishing,” He groaned when Sokka added  _ another _ fish to the bucket. 

“You just need some practice. Not everyone can be a fishing master like me, you know.” Sokka smirked at him. And maybe he was thanking Tui and La that he was having good luck today. Maybe he would be sending the moon and ocean spirits a thank you that night for helping him impress the mysterious sailor. So what? 

“Woah!” Lee nearly fell from his spot when all of a sudden the fishing line he was holding yanked forward. 

Sokka caught him with a firm arm around his waist, pulling him back to where they were seated. “You got a bite! Reel him in!” 

Lee looked over at him with frantic eyes. “How!?” 

Sokka laughed at his confused expression. For someone who acted so tough he sure crumbled pretty fast. “Come on, I’ll help you.” Sokka put his arms around Lee (for purely instructional purposes) and rested his hands over his purple gloves. “Keep a steady grip, okay, nice and easy.” He spoke into the other’s ear, his nose brushing against the fur of his hood. He did a lot of the work but it was Lee who gave the final yank to pull the fish out of the water. 

“You did it!” Sokka cheered and removed their catch from the hook.

Lee looked up at him, holding the still flopping fish with wide eyes. “I did it?” He asked and then laughed in surprise. “I did it!”

Sokka took the fish from him to put in the bucket before scooping the other up in a big hug. “You did it!” He congratulated again with a laugh, “You’re an official water tribe fisherman now!” 

Lee looked up at him with flushed cheeks and bright eyes. A few strands of hair escaped his bun and fell down to frame his face. His smile reminded Sokka of watching the sun rise. It knocked the air from his lungs. 

Tui and La he was doomed.

\--

While fishing was fun, both boys were eager to escape into the warmth of the healing hut once more. Sokka yanked off his parka with a shiver, already moving to the fire to warm himself. 

“As rewarding as catching a fish may be, I don’t think I have the patience to do that again. Not to mention I am absolutely freezing.” Lee huffed and moved over to the furs that had now become his official bed.

“Well, you know, the company is what makes it fun.” Sokka smiled at the other’s back. After today, he wasn’t sure if his rapidly growing fondness of the other was just because it was his first time having a friend his age or because of something else. It was terrifying. And also really exciting. Which made it all the more terrifying.

“Are you implying that I’m good company?” Lee glanced over his shoulder at him with a raised brow, “People rarely describe me as fun.” He pulled his parka over his head, his shirt catching on the bottom of it. As he removed his heavy jacket his tunic caught on the hem, pulling with it and exposing his back. 

Sokka couldn’t stop himself from gasping. The bandage was still tied on his side but it was far from the only wound. Down the middle of his back were three dark red scars from his left shoulder to his right hip. They weren’t all the same length and weren’t quite parallel but they were clearly all from the same thing--the same  _ weapon _ . They weren’t exactly the same angry red that Lee had on his face but they were a similar rippled rough skin. There were a few lighter lines and what looked like small burns littered across the expanse of his back. “Lee…” 

Lee whipped around yanking his shirt back and staring at Sokka in horror. He looked like a frightened moose-elk both ready to bolt and frozen in place at the same time. “I--” He swallowed thickly, his arms wrapping around his chest for comfort. 

Sokka stepped forward but it only caused the other to stumble back. He held up his hands in a placating gesture and gave Lee his warmest smile despite the alarm bells going off in his mind. He couldn’t think of too many different ways that a person could get marks like that. “Hey--it’s okay, it’s okay!” He felt like he was shaking with anger and did everything in his power to keep it from showing on his face or in his demeanor. Lee was scared, clearly, he didn’t want people to see this, clearly, he had been… “I didn’t see anything,” Sokka offered, bringing one hand up to cover his eyes. “I didn’t see anything and I can go get us some food..?” He gave his best smile he could at the moment. “If you want.” 

There was a long pause, so much so that Sokka almost pulled his hand back to check and see if the other had bolted without him realizing, but finally, Lee spoke. “You don’t have to,” He murmured, “It… fine. It’s okay.” 

Sokka removed his hand and took a step closer; relieved when Lee didn’t flinch away this time. “Lee” He spoke his name in a softer and more intimate voice, one that no one from the tribe had ever heard from him. “What--I…” He didn’t even know what he wanted to say. He wanted to know when it happened, what happened, who did this, where he could find them--but he couldn’t find the words. 

Lee kept his eyes on him and pulled his tunic off, turning to allow Sokka to look at the scars fully. He felt bile rise in his throat. Who would do something like that?  _ Why _ would someone do this? “Can… can I touch?” Sokka breathed out the question. 

The air between them changed, charged with a different energy than before. It was no longer anxious but rather tentative. Sokka worried that he might be asking too much. Surely this was something personal for the other man--it was rude of him to ask. It was just like before--why was he like this?! “I’m sorry, I mean--” 

“Yes.” Lee kept his eyes on the opposite wall but his voice was steady and sure. 

Sokka just looked at him in disbelief for a moment. His mind hummed with the knowledge that this was a pivotal moment. This was Lee offering him his trust. Sokka would be damned if he fucked that up. 

He took off his glove and reached out to touch the small of his back. He watched as goosebumps bloomed over the skin around his touch but Lee didn’t move away from him. He traced his finger up and over the middle scar slowly. The raised skin was softer than he thought it would be and his skin was warmer than Sokka expected. “I’m sorry,” He whispered for lack of anything better to say. What could he possibly say in this situation to make it better? 

“I am, too,” Lee turned to look at him, a smile of all things on his face. “But it was a long time ago. And it’s over.” 

A long time ago? Lee was only two years older than he was, a long time ago would be as a child. Another wave of anger flared in him. Was no one safe from this war? “Does it hurt?” 

“Sometimes,” Lee shrugged, “Not much. Sometimes I even forget they’re there.” 

How was he so calm right now? Sokka removed his hand to hide how he was shaking. Lee spoke like it was a sprained ankle or scraped knee--like this was just something that just  _ happened _ . “Lee…” He couldn’t hide the emotion in his voice, the protective rage he felt. “Is this--did someone  _ whip _ you?” 

Infuriatingly, Lee laughed. “Yeah. But I’m okay now, really.” He smiled at Sokka with  _ reassurance _ . Like  _ he _ was the one who needed to be comforted. 

“Lee, that’s not  _ okay-- _ ” 

“Sokka.” He cut him off. “Today has been a long day. I… I think I just wanna get some sleep. Okay?” Lee looked at Sokka like he truly was  _ asking _ . It was… baffling. Why was he worried about  _ Sokka _ being uncomfortable? 

“Okay…?” Sokka took a step back, concern painted on his face. He would give him space if that was what he wanted. But every fiber of his being told him to yank Lee close. Told him to wrap his arms around the other boy and protect him from any more hurt. But he shouldn’t pry; Lee was already being so vulnerable with him. He stepped back again and pushed away the curtain. “I’ll bring you some dinner in a little bit,” He conceded. “Just, uh… get some rest.” Sokka couldn’t look into Lee’s eyes again. He knew that if he did he wouldn’t leave. “Goodnight, Lee.” 

Just as he let the curtain swing closed, he heard a soft reply. “Goodnight, Sokka.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inuit translations!  
> Iļannaķ = friend (this might just be me, but I am constantly calling my friends "friend" and I think it is a cute nickname for people you care about)  
> Alianaķtuķ = lonesome   
> Suamrnaktuk = enduring (I took this to mean more along the lines of a person who is enduring, who survives against the odds)  
> Asik = Sweetheart  
> Also, I want to credit another fic that I've been reading that I'm pretty sure is using the same inuit-english dictionary as me^^ It's called Teen Idle (I Wish I'd Been) and it is fantastic!! Go give it a read :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko celebrates the new year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *rolls up two and a half weeks late with starbucks* Hey guys! Sorry for the delay, between a covid outbreak in my area and the general chaos of living in a state capital right now this have been a little crazy! This chapter I decided to split into two different sections so the next installment with be from Zuko's POV as well. Please let me know what you think! I took a lot of liberties in here with inspirations in Inuit culture so let me know what you think!

“Goodmorning, Lee!” 

Zuko jolted awake as the curtain to the hut flew open. He had gotten used to Sokka barging in but that was  _ not _ his voice. He looked over to see a girl standing there, maybe three or so years younger than him, with a big smile and bright blue eyes that reminded him of… “Oh, hi, uh, Katara?” 

The girl’s eyebrows shot up for a moment before she smiled. “That’s me,” She laughed, “I promise I’m not nearly as annoying as Sokka, though.” The mention of the other man had Zuko’s eyes drifting behind her, looking for the boy. “He’s out hunting,” Katara told him with a knowing smirk. “Tonight is  Quviasukvik , so he’s been up since sunrise.” 

“ Quviasukvik ?” Zuko repeated (rather, attempted to repeat). 

“Did Sokka not tell you?” Katara offered her hand to pull Zuko up. “Of course he didn’t, he can talk for days on end and still somehow leave out all the important stuff.” She tossed Zuko his parka and boots as she spoke. “It’s the celebration for the new year. It’s beautiful, we’re finishing the decorating today and Nirra and Iatoda have been cooking since last night!” 

As Katara finally pulled him out of the tent and into the main square he saw exactly what she meant. The entire village seemed to be rushing around outside preparing; excitement hung in the air. “So, what are we doing?” 

Katara marched him along without much care for the stares that he was getting. It seemed like every person he walked past stopped what they were doing to gawk at him. He looked away and tried to hide beneath his hood. “Well, you have to get ready, obviously.” 

“Ready?” Oh god. Oh god, was this all a trap? Was _this_ the big sacrifice to the moon spirit he had been waiting for? Were they going to cover him in wolf blood and toss him into the ocean?! 

“Yeah, you can’t just sit in the healing hut and miss out on all the fun!” Katara rolled her eyes at him, albeit fondly, and Zuko forced himself to calm down. These people weren’t like that. He had seen nothing but kindness from them. There was no reason to think like that. (And yet, why was it so hard to ignore that gut reaction every time he thought they changed their minds about him?)

“Oh, uh, thanks, I suppose.” Zuko followed her into another hut, much smaller than the one he had been staying in, and much cozier. There were three sleeping rolls off to the side and Zuko spoted a familiar leather bag that undoubtedly was filled with sealjerky. 

Katara pointed to a seat by the fire next to a hairbrush and a bowl of beads. “Sit,” She instructed (though to be fair, it sounded a little bit more like an order but Zuko complied nevertheless). Once he was comfortably resting she pulled his hair from the loose top knot it was in. 

“What are you doing?” He looked up at her only to have her take his chin in hand and point it back to the fire. 

“If you’re gonna be a part of the festival, you should get dressed up for it like the rest of us,  iglaaķ .” Zuko initially flinched as she ran her fingers through his hair but when she slowly worked to detangle his knots and smooth out any bumps he felt his shoulder slump. When was the last time someone combed his hair for him? 

( _ Before Ursa left, _ he answered himself. And after the agni kai he had to shave his head for the healing process. He’d grown his hair back out but always kept it out of his eyes in a top knot to avoid having to look at it. He tried not to think about how much longer it could be now if he hadn’t lost his honor those years ago.) 

“What are you planning on doing?” Zuko asked, trying to turn his head but getting pushed back into place once more. “You’re not going to shave my head like Sokka, right?” 

Katara laughed, the sound reminding him of sunlight filtering through icicles. “I don’t think you’d look too good in a ponytail,” She teased. “I’m going to braid it for you. Now hush and trust the process.” 

Zuko couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips. Was this what sisters were supposed to be like? 

It felt like hardly any time had passed when Katara finally let him stand up. The steady pull on his hair and methodical braiding nearly put the firebender to sleep. Neither he nor Katara felt the need to fill the silence with talking like Sokka did. They merely enjoyed each other’s company.

“Okay,” Katara clapped her hands together, “I think it came out pretty well! Come on, take a look.” She dragged him over to a clear sheet of ice where he was able to see himself with surprising clarity (he never imagined other nations wouldn’t have  _ mirrors _ …). The man he saw looking at him was someone he almost didn’t know. 

About half of his hair was pulled into a small ponytail at the top of his head, the rest falling to his shoulders in inky waves. Two long braids framed his face, each one dotted with beads that looked suspiciously similar to the ones that Sokka wore . He tilted his head to the side, seeing that the lines where his hair had been pulled up were braided into almost a crown shape. He wore the light blue parka from the day before, the fur of the hood nearly swallowing him up. (And was it just him or did it seem like his hood had nearly double the amount of fur as Sokka and Katara’s did?) In the shine of the ice it was hard to see just how pale he was; other than his amber eyes he looked like any other watertribe member.

“Do you like it?” Katara prompted him with a nudge to the side. 

Zuko flushed, rubbing the back of his neck and tearing his eyes from his own reflection. “Yeah,” He murmured, “You did a good job.” He turned to face her fully and gave her a proper bow of gratitude. “Thank you, Katara.” 

She looked at him for a long moment, enough that his palms started to sweat and he itched to hide behind something. Finally, she spoke in a softer tone. “He’s gonna love it.” 

“Huh?” Zuko’s eyes widened to that of dinner plates. “I-uh-what? Who, I mean, I just--” 

Katara rolled her eyes and pulled him away from the mirror back to the front of the hut. “You are helpless, I swear…”  He thought he heard her mumble but if she did, the sight before him whisked any rebuttle Zuko had away. 

The entire village twinkled. It seemed like every few feet there was a flickering candle in an intricately carved block of ice. There was a roaring fire in the middle of the village rather than the usual steady flame, and the entire population of the tribe was crowded around it, steaming cups of  _ something _ held close in their hands. The sound of children’s laughter overlapped with warm conversations and Katara was quickly pulled over to another group; leaving Zuko all on his own. 

He looked around, feeling once more out of place in the middle of this tribe. He looked like one of them right now, sure, but he couldn’t forget what they would all do if they knew. The guilt felt like it was eating him alive--

“Lee!” A familiar voice yanked him back from his thoughts and Zuko turned to see Sokka bounding over to him. He was dressed in his usual parka, his hair in a familiar wolftail. It was his face, however, that made Zuko’s jaw drop. 

Sokka’s face had been intricately painted to resemble that of a wolf.

The sides of his head were freshly shaved, leaving only his wolftail and a single braid that fell against his left temple. Zuko’s stomach flipped when he realized that he wore the same light blue beads in his braid, as well. The top half of his face was painted grey, stopping at the hollows of his cheeks and turning into a bright white. On his chin, there were two black diamonds on either side and matching black paint accentuated his eyes under two white brows. Distantly, Zuko was aware that he was likely painted as a wolf in some hunting tradition, however, his brain was having a  _ little _ trouble catching up with what he was seeing.

Because… wow. Zuko thought those blue cerulean eyes were beautiful before, sure, but now they completely took his breath away. He never noticed before how strong of a jawline the other man had. The mixed paint on his lips, black on top and white on bottom, drew his eyes more than he intended--were they always so pillowy..?

“Lee.” Sokka spoke again but it was hardly a whisper. He looked at Zuko with wide eyes, stopping dead in his tracks. Zuko flushed, wishing he could turn and hide in the healing hut again. Was he staring? He had been staring, right? “You did your hair,” Sokka stated dumbfoundedly. 

“Oh,” Zuko’s brows raised, not expecting that from him at all. “Uh, Katara did,” He explained. 

Sokka mumbled something the prince wasn’t quite able to hear but sounded a little like, ‘best sister ever’. After a long moment of just staring at each other (Did it look that bad? Sure, the look was different but it wasn’t bad, was it?) Sokka finally spoke. “It looks great-- _ you _ look great.” He stepped forward and grabbed Zuko’s hand. “Come on, let’s get something to drink, ok?” 

Sokka led him to the front and got the two of them a hot mug of  _ something _ that luckily didn’t taste too much like anything to offend his (apparently) sensitive palate.

Off to the side, a group of women sat cutting at a large piece of meat, a cut of something that didn’t look familiar at all to him. Sokka noticed him staring and puffed his chest out in pride. “Got him all by myself, you know,” He bragged, nudging Zuko’s side with a grin.

The prince’s eyes widened in surprise. “You  _ caught _ that?” He couldn’t help but gawk. It had been hard enough trying to get a single fish yesterday, this was an entire damn  _ whale _ . 

“Well, yeah.” Sokka’s voice held a little less bravado, the tips of his ears reddening and a soft smile gracing his features. “Why do you think I wasn’t around to entertain you all day?” 

“I think you mean bother,” Zuko found himself teasing back. He was rewarded with a boisterous laugh from the other, his arm wrapping around Zuko’s shoulder and pulling him close to his chest. Was it Sokka’s racing heart he could feel or his own? 

“It’s alright, Lee, you don’t have to hide it. I know you  _ love _ my company.” He continued with a wink.  _ Agni, stop that. _ Zuko had to swallow hard and remind himself where he was.  _ This is a family festival.  _ He banished any thoughts of Sokka winking at him (and all the possible scenarios in which it happened) from his mind. 

“Oh, shut up,” He rolled his eyes at the other but did not move from his place under his arm. He was cold. That was all. 

“It’s a clear night,” Sokka said after a moment, his eyes upon the moon. “Perfect for the festival. Have you ever seen the spirits before?” 

“The spirits?” Zuko snapped his head over to look at him in disbelief. Agni, they really  _ were _ going to kill him--

“Oh right, I’m sure it’s too far north to see in the Earth Kingdom.” He beamed, “It’s beautiful. One of the most beautiful things in the whole South Pole, I think.” 

Zuko relaxed, fairly certain that this was just a religious festival and not an elaborate sacrifice he was being tricked into (in his defense, he didn’t exactly have a good track record with trusting others). “I can’t wait to see it, then,” He smiled up at him. 

“Sokka~!” A small child with his own version of wolf paint (albeit a little more hastily done and starting to rub off on the bottom) came running over to the two of them, a wide smile on his face. “You have to come see what I did to the watchtower!” 

“Nuniq, did you knock down the tower?” Sokka fixed the child with a firm gaze, though Zuko noticed the corners of his mouth still turned up at the edges. 

“No!” Nuniq stuck his tongue out at Sokka, flapping his arms for emphasis. “Tunar and I added on to it, you have to come and see!” The child took Sokka's hand, yanking him away from Zuko. 

The prince felt a twinge of disappointment as the warm arm around his shoulder fell away. It was almost immediately amended as Sokka grabbed his hand, yanking the firebender along with them. Zuko stumbled, nearly sending the two of them both into the snow as Nuniq raced along to the edge of the village. 

They stopped in front of the ‘watchtower’, a slightly lopsided pile of snow with a blue flag sticking out of the top of it. Zuko turned to Sokka with a small smirk. “Nice tower, make it yourself?” The closer he got with the other boy the more comfortable he felt about being himself around him. Their relationship (not that they had a  _ relationship _ ) revolved around a lot of snarky comments and terrible jokes; Zuko chose not to analyze the similarities to his relationship with his uncle. 

Sokka gave him a light push to the shoulder and rolled his eyes. “Yes, Lee, I  _ did _ . And we haven’t had an ashmakers come by here since it’s been up, I’ll have you know!” The younger boy even had the audacity to stick his tongue out at him. Not that it was adorable or anything. 

Nuniq was already dragging the two of them forward to show what appeared to be a little tunnel off to the side. “Look!” He bragged, “We can hide food here so that we don’t get hungry while on watch!” 

“You stay on watch, too?” Zuko raised a brow at the small boy. He couldn’t be more than five years old and he was already doing his part to defend his tribe from the war. He wasn’t sure if that was admirable or disheartening.

“They’re one of the best warriors in training we have,” Sokka bragged, causing the boy to beam up at him. It was clear he admired Sokka from how he looked at the older warrior. Zuko would be lying if he said it wasn’t touching. But… 

“They?” He turned to look at Sokka with a raised brow. “Don’t you mean he?” 

“Nope!” The boy (child?) stepped forward, “I’m two-spirited!” He spoke with confident finality, as if those words made any sense to the outsider. 

Zuko looked to Sokka for help, though the other was giving him just as confused a look. “What’s two-spirited?” He asked. 

“What do you mean?” Sokka countered, “do you not--is that not, do they not talk about that in the Earth Kingdom?” 

Panic yanked his gut to his feet. Had he been caught? Was this some concept that he was supposed to know? Would this give him away as Fire Nation? “That means, uh, he is two people?” 

“ _ They _ ,” Sokka corrected him. “It means they’re not a boy or a girl. They’re just… Nuniq.” The two of them looked at Zuko like it was so obvious, like  _ he _ was the one speaking nonsense. 

“That’s… so, he’s a boy and a girl?” Zuko asked him. 

Nuniq shook his (their?) head. “I’m not a boy or a girl, I’m neither. I’m just  _ me _ .” The child explained with a bright grin. “The spirits blessed me!” 

“Nuniq!” A woman called the child from the other side of the tribe, waving him (no... them, right?) over.

“Go on, Nuniq,” Sokka ruffled the child’s hair with a fond smile. “I’ll catch up with you later. And don’t forget about training tomorrow!” 

“I won’t! The child gave Sokka one last hug before running back to the center of the tribe to, who Zuko assumed,  _ their _ mother. 

“I… I’m afraid I’m a little confused,” Zuko turned back over to Sokka. “I thought they meant two people? Why do you call him--uh, them, that?” 

“It makes them more comfortable,” Sokka shrugged, “they're two-spirited, they should be treated as such.” He spoke the words like they were so simple, not earth-shattering information for Zuko. 

“Oh.” Zuko said plainly, his voice softer and more introspective. “I’ve never heard of that.” 

“I didn’t realize there aren’t two-spirited people in the Earth Kingdom,” Sokka looked equally shocked before smiling at him brightly. “Well congratulations, you just met your first two-spirited person!” He reached down, taking Zuko’s hand and giving it a warm squeeze. “Another good reason for you to come to the Southern Water Tribe.” 

“Another?” Zuko found himself teasing once more, though his mind was racing. How much about the world did he still not know? The Southern Water Tribe was so different from the nation he grew up in, it begged the question: what else had he been lied to about?

“Well,” Sokka flushed slightly, though it was hard to see under the paint. “Other than meeting a handsome watertribe warrior.” 

Zuko found himself blushing as well and looked away from the other boy. Those words sounded a lot like  _ flirting _ . Zuko had never had anyone  _ flirt _ with anyone before. What was he supposed to do back?! “Well, uh, I suppose that is a plus, yeah…” 

Sokka opened his mouth to say something else but was cut off by the loud beating of a drum. “Oh! It looks like it’s time for the ceremony. Come on, Asik, you’re gonna love it, I promise!” 

Zuko, mind still reeling, let himself be pulled along. In the middle of the village, all the tribespeople were gathered around in a tight circle around a large kettle of water. Sokka took his spot towards the front right next to Katara. Zuko hung back, not wanting to intrude on a celebration that wasn’t his but the other man yanked him forward as if he were meant to be there. 

“Welcome!” Kanna stepped forward, her voice carrying over the now silent tribe. She held a cup in her hand made of delicately carved whalebone that was clearly worn from use. “Old friends and new,” She gave Zuko a glance and a small smile. “Today we celebrate the gift of life that Tui and La have granted us. We enter into the new year with a divided tribe but our community bonds will always keep us close.” 

There were nods of agreement from the others, a few muttering their affirmatives at the words. Zuko recalled his uncle telling him about how the Water Tribes had a strong sense of community--often stronger than that of a family. It only occurred to him now that it must be even more difficult for these villagers to be separated from the warriors of their tribe.  _ Almost all the warriors _ , a voice that sounded suspiciously like Sokka reminded him. 

“We maintain our strength,” Kanna continued, “as Tui and La provide us with safety from those who wish us harm, food to keep us healthy, and water that keeps us alive.” She stepped forward to the kettle, scooping out a small amount of the water into the cup. “As we face the future, we remember our past. I am Kanna. Mother of Hakoda. Grandmother of Sokka and Katara.” She poured a small amount of the water onto the snow before drinking the remaining amount. 

Across the circle, another elder stepped forward, taking the cup from Kanna and repeating the process. “I am Sileq. Father of Rarnim and Tilo. Grandfather of Kinuk.” He poured water on the snow and drank from the cup. Another elder stepped forward. “I am Yamora. Mother of Baq and Solek.”

“I am Cupun. Mother of Amka, Sukam, and Lana. Grandmother of Silla, Vanrik, and Rusrek.” 

“I am Taqru. Father of Silla. Grandfather of Nanurjuk.” 

“I am Nuehu. Daughter of Toala and Pana. Sister of Iaiaq. Mother of Panuk and Ataksak.”

“I am Tivruq. Son of Nia. Brother of Imada and Kyue. Father of Koya.” 

The cup passed from villager to villager, each pouring out and drinking the water as Zuko watched in amazement. There was a sacred air to the circle; no one was speaking and yet they all were  _ communicating _ . He felt the energy of every person who stepped forward and watched invisible bonds tie family members together across the circle.

“I am Sokka. Grandson of Kanna. Son of Kya and Hakoda. Brother of Katara.” Zuko watched as Sokka took the cup and then  _ passed it to him _ . The prince panicked, stepping back slightly with wide eyes. 

“Oh, I--I’m not…” Sokka gave him a warm smile, pressing the cup to his hand and giving him a slight nudge forward to the kettle. But he shouldn’t be a part of this. This wasn’t his culture. This wasn’t his family. Hell he was  _ lying _ to them. They didn’t even know his real name.  _ I am Zuko. Son of Firelord Ozai. _ There was no way he could do this. 

Zuko dipped the cup into the water with shaking hands. He stepped back, glancing at Sokka with wide eyes only to be met with unwavering support. “I am…” He cleared his throat. “I am Lee. Son of Ursa… Nephew of Iroh.” He poured a small stream of water onto the snow and drank the rest. 

The prince stepped back, passing the cup to Katara with shaking hands. The waterbender either didn’t notice or pretended not to as she stepped forward and repeated her own process. Sokka turned his head to him, a look in his eyes that Zuko couldn’t quite place. Still, he grabbed his hand and gave it a tight squeeze or reassurance. 

After Katara, the younger warriors of the tribe took their turns, all proudly painted in the same manner that Sokka was. The little girls of the tribe wore their hair in the same loops that Katara did. Guilt rushed through him as he remembered how Azula and him wore their hair in similar ponytails. But what would she say if she saw him now?  _ She would be disgusted.  _ Zuko ducked his head to hide his grimace at the thoughts.  _ She would call you a traitor. She would be ashamed to see you in watertribe blue. _

“I am Nuniq,” The last voice rang out, and a familiar one at that. Zuko looked up to see the child from before looking right at him from across the circle. “Child of Akna. Sibling of Meriwa.” They gave the prince a warm smile, pouring out some water and drinking from the cup. 

And just like that, with a small smile and a tight hand squeeze, Zuko felt welcomed fully to the Southern Water Tribe. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> iglaaķ = stranger  
> asik = sweetheart


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Under the Southern Lights.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been SO excited to get to this chapter. Let me know what you think! Sokka POV coming up next :)

Zuko looked at the piles of food before him with a healthy suspicion. The entire tribe sat huddled together in the communal hut around a large table. It was laden with soups, fish, dried meats, and most notably a large pile of what Zuko could only deduce was the whale he saw earlier. The meat was cut into cubes and appeared to be raw. While Zuko tasted raw fish before, he had never seen something that appeared to have such a high-fat content. 

“You know, it won’t bite you.” Zuko jumped at the sound of Sokka’s voice in his ear. He turned to see the other man watching him with a wicked grin. 

“I know that!” Zuko huffed, his cheeks turning a dusty rose. 

“Here,” Sokka reached across the table to grab a piece for Zuko and one for himself. “Just make sure you don’t eat the skin. It’s too chewy.” He popped the piece of whale in his mouth and groaned. “This is easily my favorite food.” 

Zuko did his best not to think too much about the sound the other just made and took the piece for himself. Tentatively, he took a bite. Zuko’s eyes widened in disbelief and a wide grin spread across his face. It felt like biting down into butter, it was so tender. The flavor was not too gamey like the rest of the food he tried and bless Agni it wasn’t smothered in salt. “Oh spirits,” Zuko found himself making a similar noise of appreciation. “This is amazing!” 

Before Sokka could reply, Zuko felt a tug on the elbow of his parka. He turned to see what could only be described as a gaggle of young children watching him with wide eyes. 

“Uh… hello?” He greeted the children nervously. 

The girl who grabbed his arm, clearly the most confident of the group, looked him up and down. Zuko did his best not to squirm uncomfortably under her gaze. “Why are you so pale?” She finally asked. 

“Koya! That’s not a polite thing to ask,” Katara scolded from across the table but after being around Sokka so much, Zuko found he didn’t care much anymore. He was getting used to the blunt conversation styles of the Southern Water Tribe. It was nice, actually, without all the pomp and circumstance that the Fire Nation spoke with. 

“It’s okay,” He waved a hand at Katara and turned back to the girl. “I’m from somewhere much further north,” He explained, “everyone there looks more like me.” 

“What’s it like?” A boy in the back blurted out. The other children all crowded around him, captivated by the tales the foreigner would tell. 

Zuko paused, wondering how truthful he should be. In all honesty, the prince had never been to the Earth Kingdom so he wasn’t quite sure how to describe it. Then again, none of these children had ever been outside of their village--and they likely would never leave it. There was no harm in telling them about the land he  _ actually _ grew up in. 

“Very different,” Zuko spoke in a soft voice. They children leaned in, all listening with rapt attention. “Almost everything is green. There is grass everywhere and tall trees that are covered in flowers during the spring.” Thinking about his home pulled a smile onto Zuko lips. It was three years since he saw the Fire Nation. Three years since he sat by the small pond on the palace grounds under the jasmine tree. “There were these beautiful flowers that used to grow by my window,” Zuko mused. “Fi--lilies,” He told them, and there was a little pond nearby that had a family of turtle ducks there. I used to feed them all the time.” 

“Turtleducks?” Nuniq asked. Their eyes twinkled with curiosity. “Are they anything like arctic hens?” 

“I don’t think so,” Zuko laughed. “I’ve never seen an arctic hen, though, so I could be wrong. They have big shells and soft yellow fur…” He smiled, remembering the little babies that would nip at his shirt and climb up his arms. “They are very curious little creatures.” 

“That sounds pretty,” Koya sighed. She then turned her gaze to Sokka, “Can Lee take us to see the turtleducks once he’s all healed?” 

Sokka looked to Zuko for help, clearly not expecting a question of that kind. “Oh, uh… you’ll have to ask your mom. It’s not exactly safe to leave the tribe, you know.” 

“Then why did he leave his tribe?” A boy in the back spoke up, addressing Zuko now, “If you loved it so much?” 

Zuko went quiet. He loved his home, even if he knew he wasn’t safe there, he loved his home and he loved his people. “I didn’t exactly have a choice,” He told the boy. Koya suddenly ran forward to pull the prince into a crushing hug (or as crushing a hug as a 6 year old could manage). 

“It’s okay,” She soothed Zuko, looking up at him from where she laid her head on his jacket.    
“You’re with us now! And you’ll have a new home and family once you and Sokka get ma--” 

“Okay!” Sokka butt in, picking Koya up and depositing her back in the hoard of children. “That’s enough of that! Come on, we have to let Lee eat.” 

Zuko flushed and turned back to his food. Him and Sokka. Sokka and him. Sokka and  _ Lee _ . Guilt once more climbed up his throat and left a bad taste in his mouth. Would Sokka still like him once he knew the truth? Could he ever  _ forgive _ him?

The children dispersed, returning to their spots at the table with their parents but Nuniq remained. “Lee?” They asked, tugging on his coat sleeve. 

“Yeah?” Zuko looked down at them.  _ Them _ . He had so much to learn still about the entire world. One might think after three years of sailing across the ocean he would know more. He studied Air Nomad culture, practiced water bending styles, all but mastered the Dao, and yet he still felt so ignorant to the world around him. 

“Do you not have a dad?” Zuko nearly choked at the question, looking down at them with eyes the size of dinner plates. “You only said your mom and uncle.” 

“Oh, uh,” He floundered for the right words to say.  _ Oh yeah, kid, I didn’t mention my father because he’s the firelord and your sworn enemy. Sorry about that. _

“Come on, Nuniq.” Sokka wrapped his arm around Zuko’s shoulders. He melted into the now familiar heat of the other. “Why don’t you go and talk to your mom, okay?” 

“But--”

“Nuniq.” 

They looked down at their feet, face red with embarrassment and lip pouted in disappointment. “Okay… Bye, Mr. Lee.” They gave a half hearted wave and ran back to where their mother was sitting, chatting with Kanna and another woman Zuko was fairly certain was named Kirima. 

“Lee.” Sokka’s voice in his ear almost made him jump. When he looked over, the other was piling food onto a plate with his free hand. “Hey, I wanna show you something. Come on.” He wrapped the food up in a cloth and pulled the two of them away from the communal table. 

Katara gave him a pointed look and waved at the two of them. “Have fun~”

Zuko didn’t catch how Sokka stuck his tongue out at his sister. 

Pulled from the hut, the only light in the night were the scattered candles. Distantly Zuko considered that this atmosphere was rather  _ romantic _ . But that didn’t matter. Nope. 

“Come on.” Sokka took his hand and pulled Zuko along to the outer wall of the village. He followed the other behind the majority of the huts and into a nook in the wall where a bench had been crudely shaped out. “No one will both us out here,” He explained, “I never told anyone about it and no one else walks the perimeter.” 

Zuko smiled with the knowledge that Sokka must have built this place all on his own. His stomach flipped with the knowledge that Sokka took him out here so that they could be  _ alone _ . 

They settled comfortably in the nook. It was small so they sat shoulder to shoulder but in the cold of the night the shared body heat was more than welcome. The two of them didn’t say anything at first, just eating what Sokka brought along but after they finished the majority of it Sokka spoke. 

“Hey, Lee? Can I ask you something?” His voice was softer than usual, the same tone that he used when him and Zuko spoke on the ice the other day. 

“It’s not exactly like you to ask permission,” Zuko leveled him with a smirk, though he nodded nevertheless. “What is it?” 

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to…” Sokka moved his gaze to the snow at their feet. “But, uh… you told me when we first met that you had a sister.” 

Zuko froze. He forgot that he mentioned that to Sokka. He didn’t bring her up in the ceremony for, well, obvious reasons. They would rather she  _ wasn’t _ his sister. She made that very clear to him when he was banished. He was no brother of hers. 

“Well,” Zuko matched his contemplative tone, “I’m not sure I do, actually.” The prince elaborated before Sokka could press. “We were close as children but even then it didn’t last for long.” He remembered their time together, and he remembered how it abruptly stopped. “We used to play together as children, but the moment we were both old enough to start training we were separated. She was so much more advanced than me, it was useless for her to train with such an incompetent opponent.” 

Sokka opened his mouth to speak, no doubt to scold Zuko for echoing the hateful words of his father but Zuko looked to him with pleading eyes.  _ He has to understand _ , Zuko told himself,  _ how inadequate I really am. _

_ Was _ . Iroh’s voice rang in his ears. He trained for three years with one of the best firebenders in the nation and practiced his swordsmanship daily. Still… he was likely no match for Azula. 

“What were you training for?” Sokka asked instead. Zuko noticed how his hands balled into fists, panic rising like bile in his throat. _No_ he reminded himself _Sokka doesn’t want to hurt you._ _Yet._

“Life,” Zuko shrugged, “The war. The people around me. My father did not tolerate weakness, there was no place for it in the household.” 

“Your father sounds like a dick,” Sokka blurted out. Zuko laughed at the other man’s sheer frankness. It was refreshing to be around someone who didn’t constantly lie and manipulate, and while he loved his uncle it was also nice to be around someone who didn’t speak in endless proverbs. “Is that why… you didn’t mention him, either?”

“Yes.” Zuko returned his gaze to the ground. “He is a cruel man. I know that now.” And yet he still yearned to return and receive his approval. He desperately craved just a single praise from the man--no, the monster--who constantly berated him.

“Do you, uh… want to talk about it?” Sokka leaned over to nudge his shoulder lightly, “You know, someone once told me that there is nothing wrong with letting people who love you help you carry the load.”

Zuko returned his gaze to Sokka, finding the other watching him with a concerned yet distant gaze. He frowned at the other. “Hey, you’re not allowed to use my words against me, asshole.” He laughed, though it wasn’t much more than a soft exhale coated in fondness. Nevertheless, he continued. “I began training with dual swords when I was 7,” He told Sokka. He began with the swords before he was able to produce a flame. Ozai was sure he was a non-bender. He made it clear to Zuko his opinion on the matter. 

“Dual swords? That sounds kinda cool. You must be a master by now!” Sokka praised. 

“Hardly,” Zuko sighed, “but I try my best. Even when my best wasn’t good enough. Not for my father.” Zuko could feel the phantom heat on his back once more. The pain that forced him to sleep on his stomach so many nights and turn his pillowcase inside out to hide the tear stains. 

_ Zuko knelt before his father in the throne room. His grandfather sat behind a wall of flames, watching him with a cruel eye. Ozai stood above him and even though Zuko did not meet his gaze he could feel the disgust and anger. Not even disappointment--no, there had to be expectations--a belief he could actually achieve what was being asked of him--for there to be disappointment.  _

_ “That was pitiful. Azula mastered that move three months ago.” Ozai spat at the nine-year-old.  _

_ Zuko flinched. “I’m sorry, Father.” _

_ “Sorry isn’t good enough.” Ozai raised his hand to strike his son but Azulon cleared his throat behind him.  _

_ “Stop.” His voice was hard and carried a grim finality. “Ozai. You need to learn to control your son better. You’re too soft on him.” Too soft. Zuko would laugh at the idea if he didn’t know it would just land him in more trouble.  _

_ “Yes, Father.” Ozai nodded. “I will not make that mistake again.”  _

_ Azulon grunted in agreement, his displeasure with both his son and his grandson palpable. “Then fix it.” The Firelord stood, parting the flames before him and stepping down to their level. “Bring him back in a week. I expect this set to be mastered.” Azulon didn’t even spare a glance for Zuko, though the child was grateful for it. He wasn’t sure he could handle that information.  _

_ The door to the throne room shut with an ominous clung. “Get up,” Ozai ordered. “Take off your shirt.”  _

_ Zuko complied with shaking hands, yanking the tunic above his head and exposing his back. Worry swirled in his gut. He was used to a hit, a cane to his knuckles, but he knew this would be worse than that.  _

_ “Turn around. Kneel.” Zuko returned to his position on the floor as his father walked behind him. “You will not embarrass me again, Zuko.” He hissed his name as if it was diseased. “And suffering will be your teacher.”  _

_ The young child heard the telltale crackle of fire and looked behind himself in alarm. Ozai towered over him, a fire whip in his hands. “Head down!” He barked, slapping him across the cheek. “And accept your punishment.”  _

“Lee?” Sokka’s voice, hardly above a whisper, pulling him from his mind, “What do you mean, not good enough?” 

Zuko, of all things, laughed bitterly. He returned his gaze to Sokka with a pained smile. “I think you know, Sokka,” He murmured, “You’ve seen it.” 

There was a long moment of silence, long enough to make the firebender squirm. Was this too much? He was rapidly becoming close with Sokka, sure, but was that too much to put on him?  _ Stupid! _ Sokka didn’t want to hear his tragic backstory™, he shouldn’t be bothering him with this. 

The silence ended, however, when Sokka let his hand run across Zuko’s back, tracing lines that he couldn’t see but remembered well. “This.” Sokka’s voice was hard, shaking slightly, “You mean--your  _ father _ did this?” There was a look in Sokka’s eyes that Zuko didn’t expect to see. Fierce anger, pure rage, and absolute horror. 

Zuko bit his lip, tears pricking at his eyes and a lump forming in his throat.  _ Stupid _ . There was no reason to cry. He moved on from this--he got over this. So why did it still feel so  _ raw _ ? “Yes.” His voice broke despite his best efforts. He shouldn’t still be hurt over this, he should be angry now. He should be stronger.

Sokka’s features softened, his brows pulling together in concern. “Oh, Asik...” Before he knew it, Sokka pulled him tight to his chest. Zuko pressed his face into the warm leather of his coat, just the right height to press his nose into the space between the fur lining of his hood and his warm skin.

His arms were strong wrapped around him, more muscle than he remembered Sokka having and warmer than he imagined possible in the cool night. When was the last time someone held him like this? Zuko’s mind drifted back to his mother, the tight hug she gave him while he was half asleep before she disappeared forever. He remembered Iroh, who hugged him as he screamed and cried and called him horrible things out of pain and rage. And now he was here. Held tight by Sokka, his shoulders shaking as quiet sobs pulled themselves from his throat. 

“I’m sorry,” He managed between gasps, “I’m sorry I’m supposed to be better now. I--I know it was cruel and I know it was wrong and I’ve moved on. I’ve accepted it--I’m better now!”

Sokka shushed him, his hand rubbing up and down his back gently, rocking the two of them slightly. “There is nothing to apologize for,” He murmured. There was a pain in his voice that Zuko couldn’t place. Why was Sokka hurt by this? Maybe he wasn’t reading it correctly--surely he was just annoyed by Zuko breaking down in his arms? 

“I’m sorry,” He whispered again, his hands gripping Sokka’s parka as if it were the only thing keeping him from falling back into that memory. “I’m not hurt anyone, I’m better… I’m better now…”  _ Yeah, idiot. You sure sound better _ . 

“Being better doesn’t mean you can’t still cry, Asik…” Sokka spoke softly in his ear, his voice a soothing lilt. It was so easy to listen to; to believe him. “It’s okay, just cry. I’ve got you.” 

Zuko didn’t know how long he sat there, clinging to Sokka and letting himself just  _ feel _ . He cried because of what happened to him. It wasn’t fair--life was never fair to him. He was hurt more as a child than anyone should be and yet there were still so many people who had it worse than him. He cried because he missed his uncle. He was in a new place all alone and he had people to support him, sure, but he wanted  _ Uncle _ . He missed firebending, he missed holding a flame in his hand and feeling that heartbeat. He missed home. He missed feeling  _ normal _ . 

Did he ever feel normal? 

Sokka rocked the two of them while he cried. He didn’t push Zuko to speak, just nodded along when he apologized and whispered placating words into his hair. Zuko wasn’t sure how long he was there, but eventually his sobs faded to sniffles and his breathing fell from gasps to deep sighs. 

“Hey,” Sokka whispered, shaking his shoulder just a little bit, “Asik, look at me, please?” Zuko didn’t want to, the shame hard to ignore, but golden eyes looked up to meet sky blue. “I’ve got you. And I promise as long as I’m here no one is going to hurt you like that again, okay?” He leaned forward, brushing their noses together softly. “Now, come on, the lights are here.” 

The lights? Zuko looked up in confusion, the words unexpected enough that he didn’t even have time for his brain to short circuit at how close Sokka’s lips had been. (All he had to do was just tilt his head forward, just a bit...). “Lights?” He asked. 

Sokka adjusted how they sat, turning Zuko so his back was pressed against his chest, though they were still as close as before. “Look,” He murmured in his ear. One hand stayed wrapped around his waist while the other pointed up to the sky. Zuko’s eyes followed and…

The sky was no longer black but bright green, blue, purple, yellow--Zuko couldn’t even tell how many different colors there were. There were hues Zuko didn’t even have names for, all blending into the stars above them. The lights danced, swirling and twisting around the village. The energy was palpable, no wonder they called these the spirits. There was a mysticism in the air he never experienced before. “It’s beautiful…” 

“Yeah,” Sokka’s breath tickled his neck, “the spirits come to visit us once a year. All the previous tribe members come back to us and bless us for the new year.”

“Like your mother,” Zuko murmured. He felt like if he reached out, he would be wrapped in the dancing colors, himself. 

“Like  _ your _ mother,” Sokka countered. He gave his waist a squeeze. “Wherever she is, whatever happened, her spirit is able to reach out to you here.” A thin gold line caught his eye, twisting around the peak of an iceberg in the distance before disappearing beyond the horizon. Moving forward. 

“Thank you.” Zuko turned to look at Sokka, finding the other’s eyes not trained on the sky but rather his own face. “For… everything.” 

Sokka smiled that warm goofy smile that Zuko found himself looking forward to each day. “It’s my pleasure to assist a stranded sailor,” He teased slightly. Sokka moved closer, their foreheads nearly touching now. He felt his breath on his lips, only centimeters apart. His eyes drifted closed, his heart pounding in his ears. All he had to do was tilt his chin forward, just a hair--

“Wait.” Zuko spoke before he could stop himself. Sokka did exactly that, moving back despite how much he wanted to yank him closer once more. 

“I’m so sorry!” Sokka shook his head, a bright flush visible even under his facepaint. “I--I thought, I just--”

“It’s not that.” Zuko reached up, cupping Sokka’s face in his hand. “I…”  _ Do it. You have to. _ “I’ve been lying to you, Sokka.” Zuko blurted out the words before he could stop himself. He didn’t let himself focus on the shock Sokka showed him, he didn’t dare analyze if there was betrayal in his eyes. Zuko pressed before he lost his nerve. “I haven’t been able to tell you the whole truth, Sokka, it just isn’t safe. But… but I like you and I can’t let this happen like this, I just can’t.” 

“Lee,” Sokka took his hand, concern in his eyes rather than the rage Zuko expected. 

“Please,” His voice cracked, “Don’t call me that.” 

“What do you mean?” Zuko couldn’t stand the way he looked at him so openly, confusion rather than hatred. Could he… could he really tell him the truth? Not the whole truth, no, but… maybe a little. “What can’t you tell me?”

Zuko took a deep breath. If he had to he was in warm enough clothing. He didn’t have a weapon but he could still make it pretty far. Maybe he would be able to hide in the wilderness until the ship came. He spoke with confidence he didn’t know he had, “There are people out there who want to hurt me. People who want me dead or worse. And if they know I’m here they’ll hurt you, too. The village. That’s why I need to leave--it isn’t safe here.” If the Fire Nation knew that their banished prince, already a disgrace, abandoned his mission and was now hiding in the Southern Water Tribe? They would all be destroyed.

“Let me help you,” Sokka pulled Zuko close once more and he didn’t have the heart to push him away again. He was weak. How could Sokka manage to do this to him? “Tell me. Please? I want to help you.”

“I can’t tell you everything.” The firebender closed his eyes, unable to see the rage Sokka would soon have.  _ But he doesn’t seem angry _ … “But, I need you to know…” He bit his lip, hard enough he nearly drew blood.  _ Do it. Do it, coward. _ “My name, my name isn’t Lee. It’s Zuko.” 

Despite his commonsense, Zuko opened his eyes. Maybe he could just get one more look at Sokka before he had to leave him forever? What he saw, however, was nearly  _ relief _ ? The tribesman was close once more, a smile of all things pulling at his lips. He leaned in, their noses brushing against each other as they had before.

“Zuko.” He repeated the name in a tender whisper, a tone the prince never heard his name in before. Was this… was this okay? Was Sokka okay with this? Zuko leaned closer, drawn into the other once more. His eyes fluttered closed.

And then there was a gentle pressure on his lips. Soft, sweet, and tender. There was no rush to it, no stakes or pressure. There was no better way to describe it than just  _ Sokka _ . And then the other man moved away and Zuko felt like he pulled a piece of himself with him.

“It’s nice to meet you, Zuko.” 


End file.
